#gonna talk to my therapist about how to sort of distance myself from her

[ignitelimelight]

So my sister and I just got in a fight over pre-shrunk fabric?? She was bitching about work and she said that if you buy pre-shrunk clothes or pre-shrink your fabric before sewing, you don't care about your appearance or your clothes. I was surprised by this, because in my 20+ years of sewing I've learned that pre-shrinking is a valuable tool for costuming and other types of sewing construction. I said as much, not confrontational but just expressing my fact in comparison to her 10 years in couture fashion. She persisted, and I was like "hey maybe a value judgment on a tool is not the move, but also we don't need to get into it". She called pre-shrunk fashion LL Bean slobs and that it seems like we can't talk without getting into something these days, I asked if this was a fight (because autism), she said yes and hung up in a huff.

How the heck did this happen?? Also maybe calling your autistic sibling to bitch about the finer details of what boils down to status symbols isn't the move. Also we were talking about the neutral subject of sewing from two different perspectives (costuming vs couture). Anyway I think I don't really like my sister these days, she never asks about me and only ever calls to bitch about work and her boyfriend :/

[citadelspires]

Amphibia Oneshot Thing(I Never Claimed To Be Good At Titles)

I had an idea for a fun little story thing while I was at work over the weekend, and decided to take the time to write it up into this. In all honesty this is ridiculously self indulgent, and I wrote it late at night with no editing, beta reading, or even just looking back over it once I finished. Essentially I wrote this entirely for myself and just threw it on here in the hopes maybe a few other people might enjoy it like I do. That’s all I gotta say up front so just, here you go. (this is a long one so most of the story will be under a cut).

Anne found herself wandering around a lot of parks these days. After all her time inAmphibia sitting around in her house only made her anxious, and the city was just dull. So she would sit in the areas with the most foliage, where it always felt the most comfortable. Like one of her old adventures could come find her any second. Like she could pretend her friends were just around the corner and surely if she waited just one more second Marcy would come tumbling out of those bushes, launching right away into a rambling speech about a new plant she'd found, the perfect mix of adorable passion and somewhat interesting information that would always make Anne smile.

She knew that wasn't going to happen. She'd known and tried to force herself to get used to the idea, but even as her miserable daydream was interrupted by the rustling of the very bushes she'd imagined, she hoped for a second maybe she'd imagined it all. She hadn't of course, and the boy who pushed his way out of the bushes was anything but her Marcy. Even so, he must have noticed her solemn expression, because he immediately walked over to where she sat with a look of concern on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Anne was surprised by the question for a moment, then again, she realized, she probably did look pretty miserable, moping around in the dirt in a random park. She was tempted to give an offhanded reply of dismissal, she was fine and his concern was almost certainly just a polite formality. But she was never good at following through with all that smile and say Im fine stuff.

"I've been better," she sighed.

The boy in front of her frowned, and took a seat beside her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Anne blinked in surprise, not expecting that reaction. She took a second glance at the kid, wondering what his deal was. He looked a few years younger than her, probably about Sprig's age, dressed for wandering around the woods. He looked like a kid who liked an adventure, maybe that's why Anne felt like she might be able to talk to him. She couldn't say everything of course, god knows she'd need a full time therapist for all her turmoil, but maybe she could simplify it a little bit, dance around the truth slightly. Besides, the more she thought about it the more the idea of talking to a regular kid sounded nice.

"Well," she began, searching for each word and phrase carefully, "a while ago, me and my friends found this weird place. It was scary at first, and I was nervous for a bit, but after a while I grew to love it a lot. I think- I know my friends felt the same. It was a really magical place, but it, uh, well its not around anymore. And I feel like I left a part of myself with it." Anne suddenly became overwhelmingly aware that she had just poured her heart out to a random stranger, and probably sounded insane on top of it, "Ugggh I sound stupid, nevermind kid just ignore me, thanks for trying though."

She started to get up and walk away but the boy jumped up at the same time.

"Wait, hold on. I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but from the sound of it, I think I kind of get it. I've got a pretty magical place of my own, I can't imagine loosing it. I know it's not the same but, I could take you there, if that would help?"

Anne turned back to look, not sure why this kid was so eager to help, until she saw the look on his face. He just looked like a kid who wanted to help, just for the sake of being nice. In that moment he reminded her of Sprig again, and she couldn't help it, she laughed.

"Seriously? You don't even know me. You sure?"

The boy shrugged and smiled. "There's lots of cool people I don't know yet. And you seem nice. So," he reached out his hand, "my name's Craig, nice to meet you."

As weird as this was, Anne had seen weirder, so sure, why not. She took the boy's hand.

"Call me Anne."

---

As they walked Anne started to wonder where this weird kid was taking her. Sure “magical place” in her situation was fairly literal, but she didn’t think she was exactly in the most common position for a kid. Or really for anyone for that matter. Still, the boy seemed pretty excited about it, so she figured she’d give it a shot. Better than moping around in some random bushes all day. Who knows, maybe she could even get her hopes up a little bit there would at least be something cool out there.

‘Something cool’ turned out to be a tree stump. Anne wasn’t sure if the kid was serious or not when they first got to the clearing, but based on the way he jumped up on the tree base and spread his arms wide.

“Welcome to the stump!”

Anne stared at him for a few seconds, not sure how to respond. Before bursting into laughter. She just couldn’t help it. There had been so much buildup, all for, apparently a regular tree stump. Craig crossed his arms and spoke up.

“Hey, I know it doesn’t look like much, but you haven’t seen anything yet, watch this!”

Whatever he was about to do, though, was cut off by a battle cry and a flash of orange hair flying at Anne from the trees. It was pure instinct, really, when Anne dove behind cover of the stump screaming,

“It’s an ambush!”

She realized her mistake a few short seconds later. Ivy Sundew literally could not be here. So, with no small amount of hesitation, she peeked over the edge of the stump to see a small girl pointing a homemade sword at her while trying to cover up a pouting expression. Anne could vaguely make out the girl muttering under her breath about how “noble warriors don’t ‘ambush.’“

“So, uh, are you gonna put the sword down orrr...”

Anne trailed off as the girl gave her a weary glance and muttered something about ‘intruders.’ It was at this point that Craig, who seemed to have tripped and fallen off the stump in the chaos, also poked his head back up and called out,

“Kelsey, wait! She’s with me!”

The short girl’s demeanor changed immediately.

“Oh, cool! Hi Craig, hi new girl, sorry I attacked you, I thought you were a devilish intruder.”

“Don’t worry about it, I get randomly attacked a lot, it happens.”

The girl, Kelsey, apparently, looked over Anne again, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“You do? Do you need a heroic guardian to protect you?”

Well, Anne noted, maybe this girl wasn’t so similar to Ivy after all. Though she still got the feeling the two of them would get along exceptionally well. She gave Kelsey a grateful smile, but shrugged off the offer.

“Nah, I’m good.”

Kelsey nodded, seeming to finally relax, though she did pause for a moment and stare off into the distance, though to Anne it seemed more like she was probably just gazing into the depths of a random tree. She gave Craig a curious look, but he only waved it off, apparently this was just how things worked with Kelsey. Noted. When she came back down to earth Craig was waiting with a question,

“Where’s J.P.?”

“Oh he found a butterfly and then chased it into a mud puddle. It was close though so I went on ahead.” Her tone of voice suddenly changed into a much more dramatic one. “He and I both had our own battles to fight.” Before immediately going back to her normal one. “But he should be right behind me.”

Sure enough it was at  that moment another boy crawled out from the foliage outlining the clearing. This one already in a considerably messier state than either of the kids Anne had met so far. He wandered over to the stump, repeating the tale Kelsey had just told them, this time with a much higher focus on the mud puddle. He didn’t seem to notice Anne at all until she cleared her throat and waved hello. The boy, J.P. she assumed, immediately jumped with an exclamation of surprise.

“Relax J.P. she’s cool.”

Anne was a little pleased to notice this reassurance came from Kelsey this time, and didn’t miss the way Craig nodded in agreement.

“She was off by herself so I thought we could give her a tour of the creek.”

That last bit caught Anne off guard, just a bit. Up till this point she had just been assuming Craig had took her here to see the stump and his friends. She wasn’t sure how much more exciting one creek could be, but after all her time in Amphibia she wasn’t one for making too many assumptions about that kind of thing. Turning her focus back to J.P. she noticed how he looked her up and down with squinted eyes, before seeming to focus on the leaves and sticks that had (again?! seriously?!) gotten tangled in her hair, and nodding sagely.

“Good call Craig! I like her style.”

As J.P. immediately began to inspect the ground for his own leaf, which he immediately deposited snugly in his, much shorter, hair, Craig waved Anne over to the stump, where he’d rolled out a large piece of paper.

“This,” he announced proudly, “is my map of the creek!”

Anne wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but a fully detailed expansive rendition of what must have been a really large area of land, complete with notations of inhabitants, activities, landmarks, and literally anything else one could find to write down, had not been it. She gave a low whistle of appreciation. Man Marcy would’ve loved this.

Craig beamed at her show of awe, allowing himself a pleased, “drew the whole thing myself” before asking, “So, where do you wanna see first?”

---

After that, Anne was pulled around the creek to all sorts of locations, each one more intricate than the last. There was an entire colony of kids in these woods, a civilization even. Even on Amphibia she had never seen anything quite like it. It was wild, and, kinda cool? The more she saw the more she started to get what Craig meant. The whole place had its own feeling to it that didn’t quite mesh with any of the surrounding area. After a while, she was even able to push (most of) the weight that had been on her shoulders for so long to the back of her mind.

Which wasn’t to say that her time in Amphibia left her completely. In all likelihood it was more inclined to have already made her a primary target for whispers and gossip to all the kids there. Though she never would’ve expected it before she’d gotten flown away from earth so long ago, she was kinda an expert at being in the woods now. Though she did slip up once or twice. For one dangerous moment there she was mortified that everyone would think she was insane when, upon being shown to the trading tree she had casually remarked,

“I don’t see why you need a whole place to trade for snacks when there are so many perfectly good bugs to eat out here.”

In her defense, she also preferred a good bag of chips over tiny dirt critters, but what could she say, she’d gotten used to a lot of weird things. While her immediate first reaction upon the words escaping her mouth had been to play it off as a lame joke(especially considering the way all the kids stared at her, some in horror, some in awe, at least one clearly wondering to themselves why they didn’t think of that first, the clearing totally silent save one kid who apparently didn’t get the memo and loudly exclaimed something Anne thought sounded like “my candy!”) her backup plan ended up being totally unnecessary as J.P. just started laughing, confidently proclaiming,

“I told y’all, she fits right in here”

And sure, maybe that made Anne smile just a little bit.

After that they had a few more people to meet, including a few girls prancing around a big open field, one of whom blushed slightly as she informed J.P. that she liked his leaf, to which J.P. gave a cheerful giggle and a thanks. (Anne considered it one of her foremost signs of character development that she didn’t break out any magazines as soon as they got back to the stump). But eventually things started to wind down, and the trio of friends, along with their new straggler, made it back to the little home base.

Anne took a few minutes to discuss the finer points of exploring woods with Craig, who had been eager to talk about it since they’d gone out earlier, while out of the corner of her eye Anne watched Kelsey do mock battle with an imagined enemy.

“You know, my little brother is much better at this stuff than I am, maybe you’d like to meet him sometime?” Though she’d posed the question to Craig, she didn’t bother to wait for an answer, as she saw Kelsey perform another made up sword move, and something occurred to her. “Hold that thought.”

Walking over to Kelsey, Anne continued to watch her form, confident enough based on where she was swinging and where her eyes were trained on that she had a pretty good idea of what the fake enemy the other girl was fighting might look like. Eventually she offered,

“You’re pretty good, but if you’re fighting something that much bigger than you, you’re gonna want to switch up your strategy a little bit.”

Without waiting for Kelsey’s reaction Anne grabbed a stick off the ground and performed a demonstration of a few moves she’d picked up in Amphibia. Though sword fighting was never something she had expected to be proficient at, she couldn’t deny that at this point she’d picked up a decent amount of skill. Once she’d finished her quick combo demonstration she turned to where Kelsey was standing, a little surprised to see a look of pure awe on the younger girl’s face, before she shouted,

“YOU KNOW HOW TO USE A REAL SWORD??????”

Anne grinned sheepishly at her excitement. “Uhhh, yeah, a little bit I guess?”

She’d barely gotten the words out before Kesley was on her, begging her to show more moves or better yet, spar with her. Anne waited for the tirade of excitement to slow down before smiling and offering,

“Sure I guess I could, but honestly my little sis knows way more about this fighting stuff than I do. If you want someone to practice with she’s your best bet. I could bring her out here some time, if you’d like.”

Kelsey’s excited nodding was interrupted by an instrument Anne couldn’t quite place, and suddenly the smaller girl’s shoulders fell in disappointment, before immediately perking back up again.

“That’s dinner, but you can bring her tomorrow! I’ll see you then!”

She waved goodbye as she rushed off, as did J.P. though with considerably less rushing, leaving just Anne and Craig, who seemed to also be on his way out. Anne figured that was just one more of the natural ways of the creek. As he left, though, Craig paused for a moment.

“I’m not sure where your special place was, but this is a pretty good one for a lot of kids here. I hope you had fun, I know we did. See you around Anne?”

Anne could tell the last bit was phrased as a question, and she paused to think, if only for a moment. Sure this was no Amphibia, and sure a lot of the stuff that had happened since Craig had tumbled out of those bushes was pretty weird. And maybe she did feel a little guilty that she was off playing around while her friends in Amphibia were, well... But still, for the first time since her birthday, Anne had gone one day where she actually felt like the 13 year old kid she was. Sooner or later she could blow their minds with magic powers and frog siblings, but for now, she was just Anne, she was just a kid. She gave a grateful smile.

“See you around, Craig of the Creek.”

[ask-asexual-crystal-gems]

What's a common thread between ADHD and the asexuality spectrum? The answer might surprise you.

A while back, an ADHD user said in response to my question, “how did mindfulness exercises go?” a single word, “dissociation.”

It was only long after I had replied, that I had to remind myself that people think of dissociation as a scary thing.

I had to remind myself that a psychotherapist I once knew was pretty unorthodox, and gave me perspective on the matter that defused all the mysteriousness and internalized socialized discomfort surrounding it, which is ultimately rooted in both fear of the unknown or unfamiliar, and maybe a little bit of stigma, too.

Naturally, I do not talk about these sorts of things with general people IRL, so newly having a ‘conversation’ online about it did not jostle my awareness of others’ attitudes like it probably should have.

Things like anxiety and ADHD are, let’s say, more “ordinary” neurodivergences. (remember, the word applies to ALL mental illnesses, also, not just traits. Many don't consider most cases of ADHD an 'illness,' nor a lot of presentations of autism)

Those are more "ordinary." They don’t mash that “this is weird” button, so much as simply “this is very unpleasant.”

But dissociation can be the former, and not the latter.

Let me back up and explain that a bit.

People see dissociation as undesirable.

But why is it, you should ask.

Leave aside questions of physical safety. I’m just talking about sitting down somewhere, and there is no risk to you.

In the typical view, it’s not just another operation the brain can do, or an altered mind state, as we discussed it, rather, it is somehow considered a “bad” outcome.

When, ironically, for many forms of mind training, which we’ll put under the umbrella term “meditation” for simplicity’s sake, the end goal is a type of on-command dissociative state.

Whether you are internalizing your attention, externalizing your attention, or just trying to get that danged mind chatter to shut up for once and give you some peace, whichever way you are sliding along that scale, there is always the route open to you to pursue this ultimate peace.

So this person, who was trying out mindfulness?

Think, if you switched all the aircraft cockpit switches to check if everything was lighting up correctly. But instead of being an experienced pilot, you had no idea what would happen once you started testing everything out.

Accidentally withdrawing your physical senses, and seeming to distance your “self” from your body, which experienced practitioners do without batting an eye, (pun intended) would seem like a dysfunction rather than a built-in feature.

Quieting those areas of the brain dedicated to sense perception is quite a lovely experience, when you are educated on it, do it on purpose, and expect it.

Whereas anxiety is almost never a positive experience, unless it’s not really overwhelming or potent, and you’ve 'reframed' it such that it’s exciting, like any other adrenaline junkie bender.

The milder forms of dissociation, termed depersonalization or derealization, that seem to be quite common among asexual people, are also often considered as a negative thing, instead of just the current, value-neutral state of mind, which is trainable.

A much more common and even milder form happens when we sink into routine. Ever had a stretch of weeks on a job where you look back and you feel like you were sort of “automated”? Like you weren’t really present? You’re somehow a little surprised that that much time has passed?

That “time dilation,” accompanied also sometimes by a distorted sense of chronological sequence happens a lot with ADHD people, regardless of circumstances, but most everyone in the populace has experienced it at some point, barring perhaps the super privileged who have never been forced into a literally “mind numbing” job.

Maybe you’ve also experienced the sensation where you get into a car, perhaps when you’re on a familiar route you’ve driven a thousand times, or especially on long road trips, and you seem to zone out and lose time.

The brain is pretty good at conserving energy.

This is what she tells her patients, to calm their sympathetic nervous system. It circumvents that distress, that health-sapping stress response to this ultimately harmless “weird” experience, vastly improving their quality of life:

Dissociation is a continuum- many forms of it are common. Not some super strange thing corralled in a small corner of the sum total of human experience.

“Reframing” these things is essential to attaining incrementally improved mental health.

Clearing away all the internalized judgement, the feelings of wrongness, etc.

Just one more step out of the norm.

Just another neurodivergence.

It is conceptualized as unnerving when it happens suddenly and sharply, though, because it is so different from “ordinary” everyday experience.

The same way one person who hasn’t been around dogs much might react to a large dog barking with fear, and another person standing next to them having the exact same experience, trained and knowledgeable in recognizing true aggression versus excitement or mild warning, would not feel threatened.

Yes, having that particular toggle out of your grasp may be annoying and to those not given this perspective, frightening. (And if other personalities are involved, that gets much more complicated!!) But, consider. One of my mentors said calmly once, that she lost time for, say, 10 or 15 minutes while sitting down quite regularly, and felt very recharged and energized afterwards. It’s not exactly like sleep, because there’s not that head nodding and relaxation of muscles. Almost instantly gone, and instantly aware again, not that feathery transition as happens when drowsing or gradually falling asleep.

I hypothesize to her that this had probably started up because she’s involuntarily dropping into a deep delta or theta brainwave state for a bit, because that’s what she does in ‘brain entrainment’ recordings. (The frequencies are very good for relaxation when you're anxious and have a hard time unwinding yourself, others are good for focus during studying, and are therefore used by ADHD people) Unless she wants to pay some big lab to measure her neuron firing frequency though, there’s no way to tell for sure. The point is, that she directly benefits from this ‘taking a break’ from thinking. She is not bothered in the least by her mind occasionally saying, ‘you know what, I’m overwhelmed right now, gonna switch off for a bit.’ When someone gives their mind this permission to pause from its worries and senses, each the internal and external input, sometimes this is the outcome. It is not a problem to her whatsoever that this toggle occasionally moves of its own accord.

People are afraid of what they don’t understand.

But she understands it.

People are afraid of new experiences.

But to her, it’s old hat. On an MRI, each of the parts of the brain dedicated to the senses dim. Occipital lobe for sight, temporal lobe for hearing, etc.

If I were brushed up on the neuroanatomy of this process better, I could also name the parts dedicated to internal imput that would grow dimmer as she entered that state. Heck, they study this stuff so much, when interviewing meditation practitioners and testing for stuff like blood flow changes as their attention shifts, those images probably already exist.

Dissociation is not a mysterious thing.

It serves a purpose.

It’s your brain’s ‘energy saver’ mode.

Or in some cases, ‘recharge.’

So, to the person who argued that ADHD people should be cautious about using mindfulness? I must ask again, why?

Why would you forgo the benefits? Why would they tell others to do so??

Usually the main reasons dissociation causes problems, that aforementioned therapist says, is that people are overloaded to the point where it happens not when they’re relaxed, and can daydream or drift, but randomly when there’s too much pressure in their lives.

The fear response to it is just like any other overactive fear response or phobia- with time and therapeutic work, they are all resolvable.

/////////

#this post is NOT about dissociative identity disorder #only mentioned it in passing to separate it from the discussion

[albatris]

ik this is probably an inappropriate question to ask but i deal with stpd and just recently discovered this. Previously thought it was just depression/anxiety but ive been on like 7 antidepressants/2 of which were more geared towards anxiety. I was wondering if you take any meds or have any advice you might recommend. Id really appreciate it. Im running out of ideas lol.( Sorry to bother and thank you)

nah you’re all good, I don’t have any problem with questions like this n I’m happy to share any experiences of mine that people might find useful!! though in this case idk how much help I’ll be, sorry D:

mostly about meds but my bad for goin on a whole ramble in the middle about therapy?? I talk a lot and have trouble staying on topic

'cause meds n therapy both have been useful to me but both probably would've been pretty useless without the other

under cut for personal rambles

so I was in the same boat as you for several years, I was in treatment for depression and anxiety and then borderline later on, way way way before anyone landed on schizotypal

as such I’ve been obviously dealing with stpd symptoms for basically my whole life but I only got diagnosed early last year n it’s the first time I’ve been. like. actually in any sort of therapy that addresses it properly and I’m still getting a feel for it

in terms of meds, I’ve been on a whole slew of different antidepressants, didn’t find one that worked until I was maybe 18 or 19? so I’ve been on the highest dose mirtazapine since then....... helps with that kinda baseline anxiety background hum, helps with obsessions and guilt spirals..... I didn’t think it did much for depression until I tried coming off it??

like, it gave me a slight boost in terms of energy and motivation, not a huge one, but definitely noticeable once it was gone

but yeah, it was kinda..... yeah, this med is about as helpful as I’m gonna get, so I decided to stick with it. I recently have considered coming off it ‘cause the sedation was a nightmare, but that’s on hold for the time being

I’ve been on two different antipsychotics, first quetiapine, which did absolutely nothing and was even more sedating on top of the mirtazapine, and currently I’m starting on aripiprazole. still on a super low dose, but working up to something that will hopefully ease some psychotic symptoms. side effects of insomnia and nausea but eased off mostly after the first week

but yeah, I haven’t really had much experience with antipsychotics or how helpful they are yet, atm I’m gonna wait and see whether there’s any real positive effects

but meds are super hard to give advice about, ‘cause different ones work for different folks, what works for me might not for you, what works for you might be something I tried and hated, etc etc etc, y’know

honestly the most helpful thing for me has been therapy, I’ve pretty much been in therapy since I was like 5 and I’ve done a lot of it

meds might be helpful to some people on their own but for me I think they would have been mainly useless without some form of therapy

meds kinda helped with some of the “edges” ie, the resulting depression and anxiety of the personality disorder, hopefully will help with some psychotic symptoms too, therapy has also helped with some of these issues on the edges, and I’m currently addressing some of the more specifically schizotypal core issues, although I will likely have to continue doing the work on those issues for most of my life

if you have a good doctor who listens to you, if you want to continue trying out meds then you might still find one that helps you out! I don’t really have a lot of advice here, because the effects can be so different from person to person. but I’ve found that meds only help on a really small scale, they kind of take a little bit of the weight off but it’s still a whole lot of heavy lifting on my own

so therapy was real good for some of that stuff too, skills for easing some of the load. therapy for me involved Other People, but for others it could involve other resources, such as online workbooks n that kind of thing....... ‘cause I know personally for me I fuckin HATE meeting new people and having to bare my soul for them, so therapy gets. interesting

and I know therapy is not realistic for some folks (and also not what this question was about but I’m just rambling now)

n I know especially that that shit gets fucking HARD when any sort of psychosis and paranoia is involved, in terms of stpd, I flat out refused to speak about certain symptoms with professionals due to paranoia and fear, and had a lot of issues trying to come into a therapy environment and immediately having complete strangers be like “ok tell me about what’s up”

like, no???? fuck off?? I don’t even know you??

n until recently all my therapies where only tangentially useful as a schizotypal, like, I did a bunch of social anxiety stuff which helped with some of the surface level day-to-day social anxiety (not so much the more deep-seated stpd social anxiety, that whole “it gets worse the closer you get to people” type, very fun), I did a lot of work around depression and suicidal urges and goals and meaningful living and whatnot, I did DBT which also encompassed a lot of work on interpersonal skills and handling dissociation and paranoia

n like. some of it was helpful? none of it got to the core of the issue or addressed what I really needed to address

I got super lucky with my current psychiatrist in that she was someone I already knew for around a year and a half beforehand ‘cause she helped out in my DBT group therapy. so I was able to get a feel for what kind of person she was beforehand and got to find my feet in trusting her in a more distanced context before entering one on one therapy. she also specialises in personality disorders and was the one who actually diagnosed me so it wasn’t like she was like “oh you’re definitely schizotypal, I’m gonna just pan you off to someone more experienced now” which was nice

she’s also the one who’s helping me out with meds currently

but ya, therapy can be A Lot, ‘specially for schizotypals who tend to isolate and get uncomfy in those vulnerable scenarios. in order to make the most out of it I have to practice an extremely uncomfortable sort of “radical openness” which is like..... well, I’ve spent most of my life being miserable and unhappy and feeling trapped and stuck in these patterns, and this has gotten me nowhere, in order for something to change I need to be radically open about my experiences

which gets HARD because the knee-jerk reaction to paranoia and delusions is often to pull back and isolate, and often I’ve struggled with the idea that it’s not “safe” to speak about certain things or that something bad will happen if I do

so it’s difficult, but I have to continually commit myself to being open and placing myself in intensely uncomfortable scenarios, getting used to the idea of trust being An Action, and practicing trust even when I don’t necessarily Feel It

that’s been a really helpful outlook for me and the only thing that’s kept me involved with therapy and meds and treatment. idk if it’ll be useful to others. I also know that some therapists and psychiatrists are shit and being radically open with the wrong people can be a nightmare

but it’s something that applies in my other relationships too and with my relationship to myself, so. *shrug emoji*

but yeah. that’s been what’s helpful for me

meds do a little bit of the work, but honestly I still have to pull a fuckload of the weight on my own, I kinda got to the point with meds where I was just like “ok this is obviously as good as it’s gonna get” and just stuck with it......... which is kind of a bummer of an answer

ik that kinda turned into a whole unrelated ramble in the middle there but I hope this kinda answers a bit of your question maybe or maybe not ‘cause I don’t really know what I’m doing

but also

I hope you have a nice day

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Five

Chris grabbed a large box from his postmaster and placed it into the back seat of his truck. 

“Daddy, what’s that?” Anesa asked.

“Not sure yet. I wasn’t expecting anything in the mail.”

“Oh. Are we gonna get our puppy today?”

“No, we’ll gonna get one on Friday. The only place that has the dog you want is in the city so we’ll go after my afternoon class.”

“Friday? That’s so many days away, Daddy.”

“I know Love Bug but we’re not going into the city until next week so you’ll have to wait.”

“But Daddy.”

“Anesa, we’re not having this conversation. You’ve waited all this time for a puppy, you can wait a few more days, ok?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good. So what do you want for lunch?”

“Cheese sticks and french fries.”

“You gonna turn into a cheese stick; you keep eating them so much, “ Chris replied with a chuckle as he pulled out of the post office parking lot.

Chris went into his office as Anesa plopped down in front of the TV. He grabbed the box and set it on top of the coffee table then sat down on the couch in front of it. He carefully slit open the top and smiled at the note “You indulged one of my hidden passions, why not indulge yours? Hope you like it (wink).” Chris dug into the box and pulled out a luxury model train set then a collection of various Jazz compilations on vinyl.

“Wow….this woman went all out,” he murmured to himself. He grabbed his phone and took a picture of the gifts before sending it as an attachment through the dating chat. A few minutes passed before he got a response

A: I was wondering if it got there in time

C: This is incredible and way more than what I got you

A: Actually it’s even steven. I looked up how much those poetry collections cost by the way

C: Totally not the same

A: It’s exactly the same.

C: Thank you, Anna

A: You are definitely welcome. So did you get the puppy?

C: We are picking him up on Friday

A: Cool. What did you get?

C; A maltipoo

A: Oh.

C: He is a shelter dog. It sounded like that was something important to you

A: That’s awesome

C; So what are you up to?

A: Nothing. Trying to decide what I’m gonna do for the upcoming two weeks

C: Something new happening?

A: It is my annual office ban.

C: Office ban?

A: My friends and employees got together a few years ago and decided the only way to force me to take time off was to ban me from the office. So they literally take my keys and ban me from coming into work

C: Lol Wow. Are you really a workaholic like that?

A: I like being busy and they hate it

C: Are you busy because you really like your job or you’re hiding?

A: Depends on the day

C: Ah. Do you only take off during this annual ban?

A: Yes

C: Maybe if you got out more, they’d get off your back

A: that’s possible. How was work?

C: I canceled classes today

A: Why?

C: Spring Break starts this week. I usually do classes remotely during the week prior to Spring Break to give my students a longer break but I do keep my office hours so I’ll be on campus Friday, that’s why we’re waiting to get the dog then

A: What do you usually do during a break?

C: Well with the new pet, we’ll probably be getting accustomed to the house but usually we go and visit my sister so Anesa can play with her cousins and such.

A: Does your sister live in NY?

C: Yea, she’s a little further upstate, towards Albany

A: How many additional hours of driving?

C: About another 2 or 3 hours

A: Oh that’s not too bad.

C: Yea. You sound surprised.

A: I was expecting something like away from home vacation

C: I have one scheduled for her birthday in the summer so we’re playing it lowkey for right now

A: Ah, that sounds awesome

C: Why don’t you go on a vacation?

A: I don’t know where I would go. It’s not like I really wanna be around people

C: You could always rent a villa or something and just relax alone

A: That’s true. Any recommendations?

C: Depends on your taste. In the states or another country? Busy or remote? A lot of adventure or quiet activities?

A: Another country. Remote. Quiet.

C: Cannes is nice this time of year especially on the outskirts of the town

A: Cannes, France?’

C: Yea. Is that a problem?

A: No, I’ve always wanted to go there but I never made it

C: Really? I went the year before I got Anesa. Sort of a soul-searching thing

A: How was it?

C: It was beautiful. A nice mix of people and solitude.

A: I might think about it then

C: It is a nice spot for a European vacation

A: Sounds like it. Thanks for the suggestion

C: Not a problem. I can forward you a link to some vacation rentals if you would like

A: That'd be great.

They fell silent for a few moments before Chris started typing again

C: Can I tell you something?

A: Sure.

C: This the closest I’ve ever felt to someone in the last few years. I really appreciate your company

A: That is really sweet, Chris. I appreciate yours as well. It feels good to talk to someone and not feel like I’m crazy or having them think I’m depressed

C: I know the feeling. Sometimes we just have to take our time to get back to where we used to be

A: I don’t think I ever wanna go back to where I used to be

C: You might have to, to get to where you wanna be. Healing has to start at the source

A: And next you’re gonna say that healing hurts

C: It can especially if you have to face some truths that you don’t want to face

A: I guess that’s true.

C: You should really give some deep thought about speaking to your ex or at least to a therapist to get the feelings out. You deserve to be angry and you deserve to be angry at him. Holding it in doesn’t make you as noble as you think.

A: I don’t believe I’m being noble

C: I think you do. I think you think no lashing out makes you more mature when it just makes you more angry. Listen, if he walked away to save you from himself, why are you still letting that torture you?

A: I don’t know

C: Healing isn’t for the other person, it's for you. You deserve to be happy, that’s why you agreed to the divorce, isn’t it? You wanted to be happy too

A: I agreed to the divorce because I didn’t want to face the fact that he didn’t want me

C: So you would’ve stayed?

A: Absolutely. Sometimes you meet a person and they’re just-

C: It. I know.

A: I know something was going on with him, I could feel it but I couldn’t fix it. I didn’t want to be a failure

C: And it wasn’t your job to fix it

A: I could’ve been more supportive. 

C: Do you really think that?

A: When he shut down, I shut down too. I can admit that

C: Which is understandable

A: but not helpful. You don’t have to say it

C: Listen, nobody blames you for trying to stay unscathed. Damaged people can be hard to deal with. I know I wasn’t. I was moody and anxious all the time. Never wanted to talk. Never wanted to do anything. That could drive anybody crazy

A: It just about did

C: Anna, you needed to protect yourself. That’s not failure. You should never sacrifice yourself in that manner. In the whole picture, maybe he should’ve been better and actually spoke to you to do better but at the time, his only option may have been to let you go. That’s not failure. That’s survival

A: Boy, am I glad you can’t see me

C: Lol, why you say that?

A: Because I am a crying mess right now

C: Aww...I’m sorry.

A: No, it’s fine. I just never heard it quite like that. Like I knew it wasn’t my job to fix him but I felt so guilty about leaving even though he was pushing me away

C: When you really love and care about someone, that happens. There’s nothing wrong with that. I think so often we get wrapped in our own pain that we don’t realize how our distance affects others. Was he a bad guy prior to then?

A: No, he was the sweetest and funniest person. He just became so cold and empty. Like literally you couldn’t see any life in his eyes

C: Do you think he didn’t love you?

A: He did love me. I could see it breaking him to tell me to leave but it wasn’t strong enough

C: Then that’s what you need to hold on to. There’s nothing wrong with loving him. And there’s nothing wrong with being angry with him either. You have a right to be but you also have the power to deal with it and determine how you react to it. 

A; You’re absolutely right

C: I think you really should go on a vacation and just take some time to yourself. Some of the locations out there are remote enough that you could stand outside and scream for hours. You need to release it

A: Then what do I do after that?

C: You live. And be happy. And that doesn’t mean you have to date or fall in love with anyone other than yourself. You don’t have to let your anger be your only connection to him, that’s what your love is for.

A: You still love your ex-wife

C: I do.

A: She was it for you, wasn’t she?

C: She was. Still is.

A: How’d you let go?

C: Physically? I distanced myself. I moved out of our old house, I stayed away from our old friends. Emotionally? I still haven’t learned how to

A: Does that part ever get easier?

C: No but I just try and bury it, which probably isn’t healthy but I can’t have her, you know.

A: Did you ever try?

C: Honestly, I don’t know what to say. Besides, I don’t deserve another chance

A: Isn’t that for her to decide?

C: You’re right.

A: I know you think you’re protecting her but lying, even by omission, never helps. You wanna know what to say? The truth. Tell her everything. That much you do owe her.

C: You’re right

A: Who needs a therapist when we got each other?

C: LOL, you are right again. Thanks for the gifts and your gift

A: My gift?

C: Your friendship. It’s refreshing, haven’t felt like this in a long time

A: You’re very welcome. Same to you.

C: I guess I should let you go then

A: You don’t have to if you don’t want to. What else you wanna talk about?

C: How about your connect for these vinyls?

A: Lol

Omg Daddy, look at all the puppies,” Anesa said as she squeezed his hand with delight, “can I get more than one?

“No. We agreed on one puppy and that’s all.”

“Yes Daddy. Is the one I want here?”

“Yup. The shelter manager says that he’s getting checked out right now and then we’ll be able to take him and go.

“Yay!”

Chris chuckled, “no yelling inside, Nesa.”

“Oops.”

A blonde woman walked over to him with a clipboard, “My name is Alexis. How may we help you?”

“Hi. We have an appointment to pick up a Maltipoo named Shep.”

“He is in the back with our resident vet. She runs the clinic next door. Would you like to come back and see him?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Follow me.”

Chris and Anesa followed the employee farther back into a vet office. Just as they stopped in the doorway behind Alexis, the doctor looked up.

“Robyn?”

“Chris?”

[phoenix-angel-suyari]

I was gonna make a post about something else entirely, but I am so freaking angry I can’t breathe. So we’re gonna talk about this instead. 

Under a cut so people can get on with their days. 

I am a grown ass adult. Let’s just start there. Because for all my damn family want me to do the grown up shit like own a house and get married and have babies, they refuse to fucking treat me like a grown ass adult. Ever since I started going to therapy, I have been not necessarily healing, but maybe just shifting. Changing. My therapist is starting to help me figure out how to take back my life from their control so I can break free once and for all in a way they can’t undo. This however, is making it very difficult to live. And she is aware of this. We’ve discussed this. She warned me there’d be push back and I’d have to remain strong and hold my ground and I am trying so damn hard. But, like, I am unemployed and I have no money - I know, I know we’ve heard all this before; it bears repeating for the validity of this post - so I’m kind of stuck, like, seriously stuck. 

I have attempted to get out before and suffice it to say, it’s never worked out. My therapist knows about this as well, though whether or not she remembers is an entirely different thing - and we’re getting off track. Anyway, regardless, I have started to be stubborn about things. Little things, here and there, sort of where I can get away with them. But, in some cases - as ridiculous as this may sound, especially given the above statement of being a grown ass adult - there are still situations where I have to bend. 

So, all of this is backstory so you can understand the current issue. 

I can’t pay my Amazon Prime membership. I’ve been a member since the launch of Prime thereabouts, and I’ve always governed it myself, because I could afford it. When I lost my last job, I was able to pay for it for about two years - without changing over, because I had NO IDEA that was an option, so I was paying FULL PRICE - before I couldn’t afford it anymore. My mother offered to pay it, because she couldn’t be bothered to have/manage an account and I basically became her Amazon secretary. Which worked out for me, because I was able to maintain my Prime privileges all at the cost of being an Amazon monkey whenever she wanted/needed something. 

My mom retired last year juuuust before covid rolled in and forced everyone to stay home. Last year, incidentally, I learned that I qualified for the $5/month Prime plan, so we switched to that because it was cheaper and worked for everyone. However, my mother has been wanting access to the account. And I get that she pays for it, however, that’s not why she wants it. She wants it as a means to keep tabs on me and spy on me and control me. So, no, I’ve not given it to her. She started to claim she’d stop paying for it and I called that bluff and now we’re at another crossroads. Because I would like to buy my nephew a birthday present, and I don’t have enough money left on my gift card from Christmas to do that. And even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to use the credit I have that expires the 28th, because I have to make a purchase of over $15. 

Side note: For all who recall, this is essentially the garden issue all over again in new form. 

I honestly am so over it. And I absolutely refuse to give on this in any way at this point. Because she can stop paying if she wants. That’s her prerogative. She can absolutely refuse to accommodate any of the necessities I require. She can threaten me all she damn well pleases. I know if I give in now, I’ll never prove to her that I can and will be free of her. 

I just wish I had more traction from which to do so. It’s easier to fight when you have some security, you know? 

Anyway, we just had an argument on the phone because I called her three damn times and she ignored my calls. Only to call and tell my aunt to have me call her back - because she couldn’t wait on the phone? And when I called her back, she didn’t even hear out the reason I called her. Just gave me an ultimatum about the Amazon account and I was like, ‘Well fine. Then he doesn’t get a birthday present’ and hung up on her. 

But, I am like shaking and I’m really angry, but I’m also anxious as fuck, like there will be some consequence for this insubordination. And I can’t relax. 

I missed a session last week due to the weather and a mix up, if you’ll all recall. If not, it’s there under #my life if you wanna catch up. So when we were setting dates for new ones, I asked my therapist if I’d get penalized for missing it. Instead of answering me, my therapist asked me, “What do you think will happen if you miss a session?” And I legit started crying. “I know there’s a three strikes and you get dropped policy,” I replied, trying not to sob and feeling like an idiot. She replied, “Yes, that’s true. And you’re very punctual. You’re very good at following rules and doing what’s expected of you. But, what do you think will happen if that did happen?” And I said, “I won’t be able to come see you and talk to you.” She answered, “If that happens, all you have to do is reapply. That’s it. You just reapply.” And then she asked me how I was feeling and explained to me more about my abuse response and I’m supposed to come up with a list of things for next session to see what we can work on. 

But this, this is exactly it. Like, this is why. I don’t get room to breathe. It’s psychological warfare 24/7. Even when there’s significant distance between us. hell, ESPECIALLY when. 

I should probably call my therapist, but I know I won’t. I’m seeing her next week anyway. We can talk about it then. 

I just hate everything about this. 

[nattikay]

So I don’t typically like making personal posts of this type, as I generally come here to escape all that and relax, but at this point I’m just not really sure where else to go with it, all things considered.

Anyways...I’ve been...stressed lately. No, coronavirus isn’t the root cause of it, but it certainly ain’t helping (as I will explain later).

So the first thing I guess...is my younger sister’s wedding tomorrow. To explain why this is a stressor I first have to reveal a bit about myself, a little deeper than I am usually comfortable doing on the internet, and I know it’s ultimately gonna make me sound like...kinda a selfish butthole.

So...I’ve always greatly valued the concept of marriage and family. It’s a value I hold very dear, I always have, and I’ve always wanted to one day get married and have kids of my own. However, I’ve also always struggled hugely with social anxiety, for pretty much as long as I can remember, and needless to say dating does not come easily to me.

For a while, that was ok because I had other goals to work towards in the meantime...getting into my college of choice...getting into their animation program...doing well in my classes...graduating...getting a job...but now I’ve done all those things, and getting married would be the natural next step in life. 

...if I could actually fall in love with someone. 

So I’m stuck. I feel like I’m just treading water, or running in circles. I feel like I can’t progress and it’s scary. But progressing itself, going out and meeting people, opening myself up like that--is also scary. It’s like I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. A lose-lose situation. 

I did have a sort-of boyfriend towards the end of college, but then I graduated and moved away and, well...things are a bit complicated. I still chat with him online now and then, but we only see each other in-person maybe once or twice a year for conventions. And even though we’re still on good terms in a friendly sorta way, given the time and distance I’m not sure whether or not he’s still interested in pursuing that type of relationship with me, nor am I sure how to bring it up without making him feel awkward.

Sometimes I wonder if maybe I should’ve stayed in Utah after I graduated, found a job there and been able to spend more time with him...but I didn’t...and now a part of me feels like...I dunno....like I missed my chance?

But...all of that’s a tangent...it’s not the only issue...

So anyways...like I said...this is my younger sister’s wedding. For those who don’t know, I’m the oldest sibling in my family. Maybe I wouldn’t feel as stressed if my sister were older than me. But as it is...this is the first time in my life that I haven’t been first to a major life event. And yes, I know, I know it’s not a race, it’s not a competition, etc. etc. etc....I know. But...it’s a reminder.

I’m stuck, and now I’m being “surpassed�� and I’m constantly being reminded.

And things seemed to work out so easily for her too. She met this guy less than a year ago and they’re absolutely head-over-heels obsessed with each other. 

and I don’t

understand 

that?

I mean, her fiancé’s a good guy don’t get me wrong, and they’re really happy together and I’m glad of that, but at the same time...watching how they are with each other, how they interact...I don’t...know that I’ve ever felt that? And in my head, I wish I could, it seems like it’d be so nice but...

guys, sometimes I feel like I’m broken.

I feel like I don’t have that capacity to get so excited over a real person the way my sister and her fiancé are about each other.

Not romantically. Not even platonically. 

Except...not quite. I do have some capacity to be all giddy. But...it only ever seems to happen with fictional characters, animals, or plushies.

Never real people. Never real relationships.

and I don’t

understand

why

And quite frankly, I’m terrified, absolutely terrified that that’ll lead me to being forever alone

And yes, I know that some people are perfectly content to live their lives single, and that’s fine and you do you and I’m not gonna judge you or say you’re invalid or whatever; I don’t believe that. But...I don’t think I’m one of those people. Marriage and family is something I hold too dear to my heart to just give up on the idea of having my own.

But...like I said...reminders.

Reminders, reminders, and reminders of one of my weaknesses, one of my struggles, of a concept that utterly frightens me and I have to be around it constantly right now. And when I’m with other people, I have to do it with a smile.

I love my sister, don’t get me wrong. And like I said, her fiancé’s a good guy. I’m glad they’re happy. I don’t want to ruin that for them with my selfish struggles. Just because I’m unhappy right now doesn’t mean I have to drag them down with me. They deserve to have a good time.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not struggling.

So...there. That’s why my sister’s wedding is a stressor for me.

On top of all that...the wedding was supposed to be in April, in Utah. But because of the coronavirus shutdowns, we’ve had to to some last-minute rearrangements, and now it’s tomorrow here in Alabama. This has been extremely stressful on my mom, who really put a lot of dedication into the wedding planning and is bummed that it didn’t work out. She’s been particularly frazzled this past week, constantly scrambling to get all the rearrangements taken care of and terrified that more shutdowns with mess it all up again.

This is why I’m making this post here. Usually I would talk to my mom, or my therapist...but I don’t have another therapy appointment for a few weeks (if it hasn’t been cancelled for the virus) and my mom, well...she has enough of her own problems to deal with right now. I don’t want to burden her with mine.

And then there’s the situation at work. With the whole social distancing thing going on they’re trying to get as many people set up to work remotely as possible. Unfortunately, because of what I do and the way our network works, this entails bringing home my entire computer setup, which is a hassle in itself on merely a physical level. I stuck it out coming into the office longer than most of my coworkers, but my mom texted me today saying that they’re now talking about shutting down all “non-essential” businesses so if I wanted to work at all over the next little bit and not eat up vacation hours I should just bite the bullet and move my setup home. So I did. 

But now there’s another potential problem. I’ve got all the hardware and it should work just fine...but I also need internet connectivity in order to access our pipeline. As we were packing up my stuff, my coworker mentioned that he wasn’t actually sure if the computers had wifi capabilities and that I might have to plug it in directly...which could be a problem, because the internet connection is on the other side of the house from where I’d be working, and even if I moved my setup to that room I’m pretty sure I’d have to unplug the router in order to plug in this computer and then everyone else would lose their wifi...which would really suck with all of us being stuck at home right now, and would be especially detrimental to my dad who is also working from home right now and needs the wifi. 

Granted, I haven’t actually tried to hook it up just yet, so who knows, I might just get lucky and it’ll have wifi capabilities after all...but I don’t know for sure yet.

I mentioned this issue to my mom when I got home today, mostly just to warn her that I might have to make some weird arrangements like a long extensions cord or something (if it doesn’t in fact have wifi). Alas, that turned out to be a mistake...like I said, my mom’s already really stressed with the wedding stuff and a potential work computer problem just added fuel to the fire and then she started stressing about that too even though it’s not really a thing she needs to be worrying about, it’s my problem to figure out...but nonetheless I felt pretty guilty for making her feel even more stressed that she already was.

I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t get my work computer connected at home. I guess just bring it back to the office...but that’s assuming people with still be allowed in the building at all come next week. I just...I dunno man. I don’t know.

All this mess has led to me starting to experience certain anxiety symptoms that I haven’t really dealt with since I first went on my medication a few years ago, which means the stress is getting bad enough to...override the meds a bit. I guess. idk, the symptoms haven’t been too severe but the fact that they’re there at all...hng.

If you made it through this whole mess, congrats, I’m impressed

tl;dr

everything’s a mess, everyone’s stressed, I have anxiety and I don’t know who to talk to

not really looking for advice so much as just somewhere to vent and maybe some comfort, idk

Thanks for your time

-NattiKay

[linktc86]

So... After 2-3 years i got myself a haircut.

2-3 minutes of walking around the mall i didn’t feel any change with my mental health.

no, i don’t take meditcations, i can’t. they make me tired, i work nights and carry heavy loads.

  i was walking behind this woman. alone, and she was heading into a store. i was heading the same direction as her, now i’m often in a hurry especially when i go someplace and i need to be out of there at a certain time. Example, if i need to get to work by 4pm i have to be home by 230 so i can leave by 320-330. i’m on a bicycle so really my commute is all math related by distance and how long it takes for me to get there and how much the human body can withstand. so throw some science in.

 anyway...back to it.

i was walking behind a woman and hoped to find a place open so i can find a gift for my daughter, my first christmas having one, kept wondering what to get her and i was behind this woman who kept looking back at me, i often talk to myself to basically think outloud so i bounce things off.

‘Okay Fye isn’t open right now when does it open...shoot it doesn’t open til later and i’m not gonna have the time to get my haircut and browse around.’ (yes, i’m one of those who go to everystore to find the perfect gift for someone while taking their interest to heart.)

 i just brushed it off as her also wanting to go somewhere.

but it happened last night too.

 if you look up Tucson (*Spits*) you will see it’s a college town. in fact some of Tucsons bests were featured in that one episode of family guy where Peter becomes smart. because it’s a college town there’s college girls here. since i’ve started focusing on work i haven’t really taken an interest in dating, and when i do, it’s just one person for a sort of companionship or someone i can talk to. (my messages are empty bytheway) i was heading from CVS to the local sandwich place and i was behind someone who was walking faster as i walked.

 i can understand, really. i have sisters and i can understand how unsafe someone can feel.

 but that doesn’t mean make a person feel like shit just because he just wants a sandwich and wants to feel at least a little bit of peace. it’s tucson, despite all the bullshit that’s going on it’s quiet at night and you can actually think.

  there’s a side of me, that says ‘be positive about yourself. be yourself. you’re not like everyone else you have a job that not many people want, you don’t dye your hair, you listen to the old stuff, you don’t live your life on Snapchat or instagram. and out of everything else, you actually want better Mental health care and better treatment for people who’ve been bullied or were made to feel like they aren’t good enough and need to change.’ while the other side of me is saying, ‘it’s not good enough. the haircut does NOTHING, you still look creepy. you should smile more, it’ll show.’

 but at night, i can think. in the dark, i can think. i’m able to just...think.. feel some sort of peace. i’m the guy they ignore so i keep to myself. i wake up alone every day and it’s always a cointoss to how i’m going to feel.

i never get a text on my phone of ‘Hey, you okay? saw your status update and i was worried about you.’ no, the text often get are ‘Dude need to stop [insert thing i’m being accused off]’ and thats if they decide to text me. but even then, i feel worse about myself.

my therapist always asked me ‘do you feel like harming yourself or others?’ the answer is always no to both. but i don’t think about harming myself in the way or burning or cutting, i think about it like should i just become like everyone else? should i be something i’m not. should i change how i look because even though i’m comfortable in my own skin should i subject myself to becoming like everyone else? a part of me says “Yes. people are uncomfortable around you, you need to stop being yourself and start being like everyone else.” while the other side of me is going ‘you should just harm yourself just by thinking that. you’re different. not just by saying it but by acting it. you go into a target and the first thing you go to find is what game you can play with your sister. you sit down and write stories or draw because you don’t want drama. you write things about how you feel and you want to get a point across. you at least know what you want, but you wait.’

  when i was younger i used to get grounded. parents policies, School, Church, Home. no friends, no phone, no games. no tv. you have books. read.

 now it seems like, these days if i wanted someone to talk to i have to wait a month or a week. if i wanted to go anywhere to shop i need to do it online cause people will think i’m going to do something to them. that i need to ignore everyone in the room just to tell my manager that i’m clocking out and tell my coworkers, my manager and the customer that’s there to ‘be safe.’

i hate what this world has become. people think that the only way to show kindness is if you deserve it. the only way to get kindness is to get the necessary qualifications (like if you have a nice body or whatever fits their qualifications.).

but why not show it to someone who needs it? the world is shit right now, no one wants to be nice, everyone wants to play either the blame game or the victim, but no one wants to just say ‘Fuck it, i’m going to be nice to this person.’ 

[theateared]

It’s Good to See You. ❜

Summary:  You’re my brother, and that won’t ever change.

    A lot of things were spiralling in Aléjandro Murphy’s life at the moment.  His identity crisis had come centuries too late and it was expensive for his mental health.  The progress he’d made on eating and managing his self esteem was swirling down the drain, and he felt he could do nothing except watch his healthy habits abandon him.

    How can I have any self-esteem when I’ve ruined my own life?     How can I eat when I feel like I don’t deserve to do anything except  slowly starve to death?     How can I continue having faith in my medication when I do things to stop it working?

    He knew better than to take his problems to Edgar.  He had said time and time again that people were responsible for their own health, and he didn’t feel as if he disagreed with that. Though he wished the Alpha would be a little more receptive when it came to listening to those struggling, he ultimately thought that he was right.  Nobody else was to blame for his choices, and nobody else could be expected to shoulder his burden.  

    His visits to his therapist had become less frequent for this reason.  There’s just nothing you can do for me right now.  This is something I have to work through on my own  -  or die trying.

    It had been two weeks since Tilly had left, and he felt it had been just as long since he’d eaten a meal.  He snacked infrequently when on the verge of passing out, feeling immediately guilty once the pain in his stomach ebbed away.  He tried not to stay in his house too much.  That was a recipe for disaster.  The last time he’d done so, he’d burned it to the ground.  When he stayed inside, he traversed his expansive hallways like paths in a labyrinth, convinced that he didn’t recognise the wallpaper because it looked different when he looked at it whilst alone.  He’d gone through the painstaking process of turning all of his photographs around, mirrors too, unable to look at himself without feeling an intense rage building in his stomach.

    She gave everything a glow.  Now it’s all monochrome, and I only have myself to blame.

    He was staring blankly out of his kitchen window when there was a knock at his door.  It almost didn’t register.  For a moment, he considered ignoring it;  about forgetting all about the existence of other people and heading up to bed.  If he wasn’t drinking, he was sleeping.  It was just the way he dealt with pain.

    It could be Kuro.

    That fact alone saw him dragging his feet to the door, groggy and drained.  Truthfully, he didn’t feel much of a desire to converse with anybody, and Kuro was no exception to this.  However, he also knew that, if the Sheriff really wanted to see him, he’d use the key he gave him to get in regardless.

    When he cracked the door open, seeing a pair of grey eyes through the slit, he sighed heavily and shut it again, sliding the latch out of place and opening it properly, leaning against the doorframe.

    “Thank fuck,”   Kuro muttered, shouldering his way past him until he was stood in the hallway.  Once he was inside, Murr closed the door wordlessly, finding that he didn’t have the energy to greet him.  He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, though his warmth barely touched him.   “What the fuck, Murr.  ‘s been three weeks since we last spoke.  Y’didn’t return any’a my calls ‘n’ I haven’t seen y’in the theatre.  I thought y’fuckin’ died or somethin’.”   He took note of his friend’s exhausted body language then.  Though his tight frown and heavy eyes remained obscured, his bent spine and the way he leaned against the door for support wasn’t lost on him.   “Hey…  I know, alright?  I know.”

    Before yesterday, he hadn’t known.  In fact, it was only a chance encounter with Tilly that had alerted him of their situation.  At first, he had asked whether they were fighting, spotting that her ring wasn’t in its usual place almost immediately.  She had crumbled under the weight of his question, mumbling a quick explanation before hastily making her way back to the house they'd built for her.  It was strange to see her going that way instead of up the hill, the hill that took them to The Murphy Orchard.

                                                              Alé says he’s gay so it can’t work anymore.

    He watched as Murr slumped further, as if his gaze brought him shame.  He flinched as Kuro squeezed his shoulder gently before he released it again, taking his arm and guiding him in the direction of the kitchen.  Once in there, he flicked the light on and sat his friend down at the table, turning to the counter to boil the kettle.  Some tea might do you good.

    “... how’s everythin’ workin’ fer y’?”   Kuro asked hesitantly, pouring the water into a mug. Just like Murr knew how he liked his coffee, Kuro knew how Murr liked his tea.  He was about the only person he would trust to make him one--  at least, the only person that wasn’t his wife.

    “It’s not,”   Murr replied hoarsely, staring vacantly out of the window once more.  His attention was only earned when a steaming hot mug was placed gently in front of him, and after a moment of debating with himself, he curled a hand around its handle and brought it to his lips.  The burn was immediate, tongue scalded painfully, but he drank more nonetheless.  It made his throat feel tickly and irate.

    “Y’should’a said somethin’,”   Kuro said with a sigh as he sat down at the table.  He was near, beside him, though not invading his personal space.  He suspected that the last thing Murr wanted at the moment was to have his bubble burst.   “Raku knows how horrible this is fer you.  Tilly’s in bits.  ‘n’ I know you…  yer blamin’ yerself, no doubt.”

     The Sheriff observed his friend’s silence with a hint of pain in his face, usually blank slate slightly more malleable when face to face with turmoil.  Murr’s depression was a frightful thing. When it wasn’t burying its way through him like a tapeworm, making him hurt himself and sleep days away, it was keeping him vacant.  His body was awake but his soul was not, and had he been given the choice, he would’ve liked to stay asleep in all senses of the word.  Permanently, even.

    “We don’t gotta talk about it now,”   he said patiently, hands clasping as his upper body leaned closer.  Despite their limited distance, he’d never felt further away from him in his life.   “But I want y’t’know that ‘m here.  ‘n’ I ain’t goin’ nowhere.  I don’t care what y’are, Alé.  All that matters is yer my best friend.”

    Being gay wasn’t the problem.  Both men knew that.  But it was a problem when it sabotaged a relationship that another person was involved in--  somebody that he was no longer compatible with because of it.  He harboured no resentment towards his orientation, nor others of the same leaning, only that it had arisen to his attention so late.  Could you not have surfaced in college like you do with everybody else?  Could you not have come to my attention before I got married to a wonderful woman and felt like I was finally getting my life together?

    “... it’s good y’see you, Murr.  I hope y’know that.”

    He didn’t.  How could he?  How could he sit there and lap up the attention like a cat would milk when he knew that he was responsible for this mess?  How could he pretend to feel wanted when he’d likely made a perfectly capable, perfectly beautiful girl feel as if she wasn’t good enough for him?  What hurt him the most was that she had met him with such compassion.  It had burned a hole through his resolve, left him agonised long after she’d left.  Part of him wanted so badly for her to declare her hatred for him;  to slap and punch and cry while telling him that he was the worst thing that had ever happened to her;  that he ruined her life  -  because that was how it felt.

     “... I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Kuro…”   he admitted, voice sounding hollow and taut, like an elastic band being stretched to its limit.   “I fucked it all…  everythin’ I had.  Gone.”

    “Don’t say things like that,”   Kuro replied, his hand reaching for his.  His wrist was pat gently, coarse fingers tender against his sleeve.   “You’ll get through it.  Same as y’ve gotten through everythin’ else.  Y’ve dealt with so much.  Y’ve been abandoned.  Ostracised. Survived on yer own in the wild.  Lost both’a yer parents.  This will not be the death’a you. Y’ll be alright.  ‘n’ if y’need help?  We’ll be there for you.  I’ll be there.”   He was squeezing gently now, trying to prompt some sort of eye contact, but Murr was having none of it.   “We’ll get through it together, yeah?  Through thick ‘n’ thin, no matter what.  Alright?”   When Murr still didn’t look at him, he squeezed tightly enough for it to hurt.  He heard the man hiss quietly, looking up.  In a more tense voice:   “Alright?”   Don’t you go doing stupid shit now.

    “... alright…”   Murr replied feebly with a tiny nod, rubbing his wrist when Kuro let go.

    “Good.”   He glanced aside, then gestured to his cup with a swipe of his hand.   “Drink yer tea.”

    Murr did as he was told, grateful for a sense of direction.

[ladyruin]

No one's gonna see this. I'm just doing this to provide myself some sort of catharsis, but like... I'm drowning. I have no hope. I am lost.

It may be exacerbated by the fact that I've gotten not so great sleep this past week and a half, but I'm sitting at my full-time job rn just trying to reign in my feelings again to where I don't break down and cry at work for the second night in a row. Why? Because I can't afford to be self sufficient despite working full-time, despite making above minimum wage. I dropped out of college bc my mental health tanked. It got better once I got a job like, a year and a half after that, but it's tanking again as a realize that mostly because of that student debt I have, I can't be self sufficient and move out of my parent's house like I want. I'm stuck living with a parent that has left me with mental scars, while the other who was my rock moved about 40 minutes away. While we're both happy that she was able to get away from him and is overall happier for it, she feels guilty that she had to leave me behind. And I am sad I don't get to see my mother who's like my best friend as often as I want or sometimes need to.

I feel pathetic for saying that. But I'm not sorry for it.

I've noticed that my breakdowns at work are slowly getting closer and closer together. Because now I feel like I'm going to end up crying for the second night in a row because I feel trapped. It reminds me of what my sister said a couple months ago as a joke, "How would you know? You're not a real adult." I'm 24 in two weeks. I am an adult. It's a tasteless, gate-keepy joke. I immediately got upset and told her that I didn't enjoy her joke, and she at least apologized, but that doesn't change the way she thinks about me. It makes me think that she sees me as just a lazy leech. Just because I didn't work two part time jobs like she did. For about 2 months before she quit. She's literally told me, when I was just trying to look for support when talking to her, that I wasn't working hard enough and I need to work two jobs like she did. And that I have it easier because I'm not married. She added the married part bc I told her I was a bit jealous she was married bc she had someone there who could both emotionally and at least partially financially support her while I had none of that. I was alone. And she went off on me. The one time I reached out to her for support and she threw my insecurities back in my face and beat me with them.

I haven't really talked to her since.

I'm stuck at this job that's far from my home because it pays above minimum wage and doesn't trigger my anxiety all that much. I try to job hunt occasionally, but not only is it demoralizing, it's highly triggering for me. Don't ask me why. It just is. So I have to do it in very small spurts. I can't afford land, I can't afford a mortgage, I can't afford living expenses... I can't afford anything I need as a single person.

And no, on the off chance that someone does see this, I'm not explaining why I can't just try and find an apartment. Just know it's animal related.

So, I am kinda of trying to go back into therapy. But it's hard because my first experience wasn't good. I first went a few months after I dropped out of college. And my therapist was just... Not understanding a thing I was trying to tell her. I didn't have the word to properly explain why my dad made me feel bad. Just that I did and certain things he did that just wasn't right. completely ignored me. Told me that my dad just relied on me and completely did not see or ignored the fact that I was basically telling her that my dad would continually use my fear of him to manipulate me to get me to do what he wanted. Which were chores that his golden boy essentially told him no to. It got to the point where my dad gave up asking my brother to do anything and he just went straight to me. My father emotionally abused me, and my family, for years. The sad thing is that my mom and I have been the only people to clearly see and call him out on his narc bullshit (even if my mom was a bit late to the party).

My father doesn't really try the things he used to before, but that doesn't erase the trauma. Even if he will never acknowledge it, I will never forget. I still get on edge at times when I hear him outside my bedroom door, and the only way I feel safe is by locking all my doors.

He probably doesn't know why I do that.

My mom certainly didn't until I told her why I had started doing that.

I think she cried when I told her. I don't remember.

It's funny how my brain, like some other people's brain, forgets things to cope with stress. That's at least one thing my old therapist did acknowledge. She said it was something she watched for.

I do hope one day I'll have the means to leave. Maybe that'll give me the distance to finally maybe love my father again like I used to when I was little. Maybe it won't. But I'm realizing that even if my father doesn't treat me like how he used to, that house is still toxic for me. It's... Hard to explain why, but for those who have been through similar or worse things (god forbid) know what I mean.

If for whatever reason people actually see this, read this, know I'm going to see about turning comments off for this post. If you want to talk to me, you can DM me I guess. But know that when I'm like this, I'm very reclusive. I may not reply. And I'm sorry. I can barley keep up with myself right now.

Anyways, if anyone reads this, thanks for reading my ramble. I'm goin to try and... Decompress now. Goat cuddles do help, but they don't live where I work. Haha

[savage-rhi]

I know your not a therapist but like... How do you get past losing a best friend? Like you two use to be close and now your nothing to them and your lonely... and it’s hurts allot....

Hoo-boy, this is never an easy subject no matter how old you are. 

First, thank you for acknowledging that I am not a therapist. While I am training to be a peer support specialist, it doesn’t mean I qualify as a therapist (I mean with the shit I’ve been through and what I know about the system, I should be without a master considering I have 2 bachelors and associates plus a shit ton of psych credits but I digress) but I’m gonna attempt to help you sort through the painful bullshit that is losing a friend. I may speak from personal experience, so I apologize in advance if this comes across as “me me me..”etc. 

The first step should be asking yourself this question: have you communicated properly with your friend to talk about your feelings and see if said person is okay? 

More often than not, we grow distant from friends not because we don’t value them, but because life has a way of throwing us into its stresses. It’s perfectly acceptable in my opinion to have a friendship where you’re not constantly talking to each other, but a check-in every now and again is nice. I have dear friends where we haven’t spoken in like years but then get back together when life isn’t kicking our asses the curb. That being said, every friendship is different. Sometimes people have more needs than others and that’s okay, but it’s important that you communicate this in a healthy way with your friend.

I feel like I went off on a tangent here, but yes, please, please, please before you move on and do any other action: TALK TO YOUR FRIEND. Communication is vital in any kind of relationship. Don’t beat around the bush either, get to your point and concerns so you both can work together to figure out what’s causing the rut. 

Now, if all is said and done and they tell you to kiss their ass, or pretty much give all the signals and cues that they’re done, this is hard but take these steps and tread lightly. Be kind to yourself when going through this. 

My first step would be to not force closure. It’s not healthy for you, and potentially not healthy for your ex-friend should they want distance and you want to try and salvage something. 

Second, tailor your social media or whatever else you have them on. Give them a light block or a full-on block. Whatever you do, commit to it. You’ll save yourself the trouble and won’t feel pressured to try and salvage the relationship. 

Third, if you have mutual friends this can be tricky but remain civil. Do not divulge in the reason why you and so and so don’t speak anymore. Just say you grew apart or there was some conflict, and leave it at that. Should you two bump into each other at friend gatherings or something, try to keep your composure. Focus on the friends you do have, or you can do what I do, and pretend ex-friend is an NPC character and you don’t feel like interacting with said person to move onto the next quest. I’ve done this to co-workers I couldn’t stand, and peers who drove me up a wall and it works wonders. But find something that works for you. 

Fourth, focus on something that is going to benefit you. If you and bestie were always there for each other 24/7 it can be difficult figuring out what to do with your time now that they are not at the center, but trying out new things and new experiences are essential in helping one deal with heartbreak be it from a friend or partner. Enjoy the little things, find your zen or whatever the fuck gives you that spark to keep staying curious. 

Fifth, get involved with community. Now, I am not saying go out there and get another BFF. I am saying that as social creatures, we need each other. Getting closure from other people can be a step towards healing and maybe forming future friendships. Find your niche, tribe, or pack of people and let them know you’re hurting and need help getting to your closure. 

Last, and to me, this is the most important step: What did you learn from this relationship? Do you tend to have a lot of friendships where this happens? Do you tend to choose a lot of friends like this person? etc. etc. etc. The silver lining to a friend breakup is addressing your own potential toxic behaviors if there are any. Of course, your friend may have been deeply problematic on their own, and you might have to realize a sometimes-harder truth: there was nothing you could’ve done to fix them or the relationship. It is what it is. But can you learn from it? Can you grow from it? Look for the patterns so that way you come out stronger. 

Speaking from personal experience, I went through many of these steps after I broke off with someone I considered family. My dad beat me up and I couldn’t drive to get help cause my body was fucked up and I called her repeatedly in the middle of the night to help me, but the following morning she blocked me from social media, phone, and wouldn’t even talk to me at college. When I addressed her a few days later, she flipped on me for not being considerate and how if I truly needed the help, I should have found a way to get to her. 

At that point, given the circumstances, I didn’t want to explain myself given how dire the situation was. Since she already took the steps to block me, I kept my distance, re-evaluated our mutual friends and how to navigate through that, focused on my classes at the time, and tried to get involved with other people. It wasn’t easy, but since she took drastic actions right off the bat, I knew this was a relationship I didn’t want to put more energy into and if I continued to feed it, who knows how toxic it could have become. 

I see where I was at fault for my end of things as well as hers, but I did grow from it. There were many lessons learned after that friendship ended that I otherwise wouldn’t know. 

My point of all this is that you will heal. Like mourning a death, it takes time and self-compassion. You need to be there for you and try not to force things back into place. What’s done is done. Maybe you guys can come back later and try to reconnect, but if it doesn’t happen, that doesn’t diminish your worth as a person or a friend to others. You’ll find your people and you’ll have new experiences. It’s okay to mourn, it’s okay to be angry and frustrated at what happened, but give it time and move on to the next best thing. 

Honey, you got this. Aunt Jay may not know a lot of shit, but I know you’ll find your way. This is the part where I’d smack you hard on the shoulder and rile you up after a tough dad talk but I can’t do that lol. But what I can say is that you’re loved. You are worthy and you’re gonna be alright. Like I say often, get to the good. 

[freedom-shamrock]

Bi the Pricking of my Thumbs #5

<< Chapter 4

Cautionary note: references past abusive/neglectful parenting.

Also on AO3. If you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi

Chapter 5

"Adrien! Nino's here," Papa's voice carried easily into Marinette's room. "Come down and help him carry up the snacks."

"Ooh!" Despite the last three weeks of freedom to eat, do, and be what he wanted, Adrien was still visibly excited about both the arrival of his boyfriend and unlimited Dupain-Cheng treats. "Coming, Papa."

Luka draped their arms over Marinette's shoulders, brushing their cheeks together. "It's nice to see him so happy."

"I know." She smiled, contentedly leaning against them. "Getting to be part of that really makes it all worth it." Adrien had the smaller bedroom, formerly the Dupain-Cheng guest room, and he insisted he didn't mind at all. But it was nice for them to have a place to hang out, all the teens that tended to show up usually in twos and threes, that didn't feel like they were taking over the living room. So Marinette rearranged part of her room, letting Adrien decorate it with beanbags and a ridiculous TV set up for movies and gaming.

"Is it weird having him as your brother now?" Luka asked, giving her temple a light kiss. "I mean, you had a crush on him for a couple of years, and he had a crush on Ladybug for about as long."

Marinette shook her head. "That all died down a long time ago, and he's been such a good friend to me on both sides of the mask." It had been a little terrifying when Luka first told her they'd figured out she was Ladybug. She was grateful they'd waited until after Hawk Moth was in police custody to reveal they'd known almost as long as they'd known each other. They'd also known Adrien's secret, but waited to bring it up until she knew. She and Adrien had decided to keep their superhero identities on a need-to-know basis, for now, at least, and most people didn't need to know.

"No, no, no," Adrien said from somewhere just below her bedroom door. "You go up first."

"You just want to watch me walk away," Nino teased.

"And your point is?" Adrien demanded.

Marinette could imagine his expression and the shrug he'd always used at Chat Noir, but never as Adrien. She giggled and crossed her arms so she could comfortably rest her hands on Luka's shoulders.

"Goodness he's more direct and sassy than he used to be," Luka said, smothering their own laugh in her shoulder. "That's nice, too.  No more guessing where he stands or what he wants."

"Hurry up, boys," Marinette called. "It's going to start in less than a minute, and I don't think we want to miss any of this."

Two sets of feet thudded up the stairs, as both Nino and Adrien carried up platters of treats, to set beside the TV. Adrien looked at Luka and Marinette, and she caught a glimpse of his plotting-Chat-Noir face. He swiftly flopped into the beanbag beside them, patting the space in front of him. "I saved a spot for you Neen."

Nino looked and rolled his eyes. "My butt is not nearly as small as Nettie's.  I'm not gonna fit there."

"I'll have you know," Marinette pointed out, "that my butt is bigger than it looks."

Adrien snorted with laughter. "You're not wrong. Henceforth I shall call thee…"

"No!  Absolutely not!" Marinette squirmed in Luka's hold to bat at Adrien's hand. "I will not answer to Ladybutt."

Luka buried their face in her neck, but she could feel them shaking with laughter.

Adrien flashed her the saddest kitten face is his repertoire. Then he turned it on Nino. "Come cuddle with me," he whined. "My sister is being so mean to me in this difficult time. I'm just a touch starved boy in need of emotional support."

Nino tipped his head back to look at the ceiling, before his posture sagged. "Fine." He drew the word out. "But we need to talk to your therapist about using your past trauma to manipulate your boyfriend."

"Yes!" Adrien moved back to provide a little more room. "I am your barnacle.  Come be my ship."

Marinette couldn't hold back the gales of laughter and she didn't even try.

"Dude…" Nino's face was red. "You can't just say shit like that." He settled into his designated spot, not seeming to mind being pulled back against his cuddly boyfriend.

The news show returned from its commercial break, and Marinette snatched up the remote to unmute the audio.

"Welcome to today's first segment of Face to Face, I'm your host Nadja Chamack." The familiar news anchor sat on her pristine couch, but there was no one across from her, signaling that this would not be her usual show. "I'm breaking from format tonight to share a recorded interview with Adrien Agreste from last night. As all of Paris is aware, Adrien's father, Gabriel Agreste was apprehended at Paris Pride Fortnight last month by none other than Ladybug and Chat Noir. With the revelation that Monsieur Agreste was the villain Hawk Moth, the value of his fashion house plummeted, and his son vanished from the public eye." She looked straight into the camera, all good humor wiped off her face, an effect that was creepy. "Last night, Adrien shared with me a story of a broken home. Please be advised that the content of this video includes a frank discussion of child abuse which may be distressing to some viewers."

The camera focused on Nadja's screen, where photos and videos were usually displayed.  And after a moment, the studio faded in from black, revealing Adrien sitting on the guest couch.

"Thank you for meeting with me Adrien," Nadja said, her voice much less chipper than usual.

Adrien nodded. "Thank you for having me.  And for being willing to do this on my terms." Being able to record the show, instead of performing it live, had been his therapist's suggestion for keeping his anxiety at bay.

Nadja smiled, tipping her head slightly. "First, I wish to offer my condolences. This must be a very difficult time."

"It's weird," Adrien admitted. "It's both difficult but also the easiest thing I've ever done." His hand came up to rub at the back of his neck.

"Can you tell me what's difficult about it?" she asked gently.

"It's... " He stared off into space a moment. "It's hard to wrap your head around something like this. I mean. I knew my father was not a particularly nice man. But I had no idea he was Hawk Moth. It's... " He huffed. "I ask myself at least ten times a day why I didn't see it, how I didn't realize I was living with a terrorist."

"That does sound really difficult," Nadja agreed. "But you know Paris doesn't blame you, right?"

He gave her a rueful smile. "Thank you. I appreciate it every time someone tells me that." He shrugged. "I guess I'm harder on myself than everyone else is."

"What about the situation has been easy for you?" Nadja asked.

"I'm actually happier than I've ever been." Adrien's real smile lit up the screen. "One of my very best friends had already asked her parents if I could move in with them before the arrest."

"Before?" Nadja asked.

Adrien nodded. "Things were… not good living with my father. And she'd seen that, and made a contingency plan for me." He chuckled. "That's just sort of the way she is."

Luka snorted.

"Shush, you." Marinette poked him gently in the thigh.

"And after the arrest, it really made the most sense to just go with that plan." Contentment was clear on TV Adrien's face. "I haven't had a real family since… well… possibly ever. I mean, things were better when my mom was around, but my father was already so controlling, even back then. When she vanished, it just got worse." He sighed. "I have new parents now. We're working on the adoption process."

"Adoption?" Nadja asked in surprise. "Aren't you seventeen? Why would you look at adoption at this point?"

"Do you have a family, Nadja?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

"I really, really want that," he explained. "And I want to know that I'm going to have that for the rest of my life. I love having people I can call mama and papa. I never called my father that. There was… a lot of distance between us. A lot of neglect and unreasonable expectations. I know Papa is proud of me. There was no way Gabriel Agreste was ever going to be proud of me."

"Gabriel neglected you?" she asked. It was clearly the first she'd heard this detail.

Marinette reached out to rest a hand on Adrien's shoulder as the TV version of himself nodded. "It was common to go weeks without seeing him, though we lived in the same house. I ate meals alone, when we were scheduled to eat together. He forgot about my birthdays and stopped celebrating holidays that were important to my mom. He'd promise to show up for things, only to no-show. If I got upset about anything, he'd tell me I was too emotional, and threatened to take away what few freedoms I had.  School was a common one."

Nadja stared at him, silent for a moment. "He threatened you because you had emotions?"

Adrien nodded.

"And… school? What do you mean?  How did he use that as a threat?"

"I was homeschooled for years, you know," he said, conversational and bright. "I begged to go to school so I could make friends. I felt like Pinoccio, a puppet who wanted to be a real boy. I actually had to run away to school, repeatedly, before he let me attend." He sighed. "But I think he just wanted leverage.  The threat of pulling me out of school would get me to cooperate with all sorts of stuff I didn't want to do."

Nadja covered her mouth, looking ill.

"Did she throw up during your interview?" Nino asked. His voice was rougher than usual. Even though he'd already heard all of this, it was still upsetting him.

"No… well, not while I was there," Adrien said. "But it gets better here." He pointed to the screen.

"You're incredibly resilient, Adrien," Nadja said softly. "How about you tell me about your clothes." She gestured to his outfit. "This is a new look for you, and it looks fantastic."

On-screen Adrien grinned and stood up to give the camera the full effect. "Yeah. This was made by my best friend. She has an online shop by the name of Maribug, and she's designed a whole new wardrobe for me."

"It's quite striking," Nadja said. "Much more vibrant than what we've grown accustomed to."

Adrien nodded. "Yeah. My father used to tightly control what I was allowed to wear. He wanted me to project an image of bland perfection. Maribug really knows me, though. And since my father deprived me of the opportunity to come out during Pride, she's created some outfits that fit my aesthetic preferences while also evoking the bi pride flag."  The shirt was a pink asymmetric v-neck, with an off-center front zip. His belt was a bold purple. His pants were bright blue and snug, showing off the body Chat Noir had built up.

"Oh," Nadja said in surprise. "Congratulations."

Adrien swiped the remote and muted it again. "The rest is just niceties. You've all heard me say goodbye before."

"You meant it when you said you were happy, right?" Nino asked, twisting to look at his boyfriend.

Adrien nodded. "Really, really happy," he promised.

"I'm glad for you," Luka said. "You deserve it."

"Now that, that's out of the way," Adrien said, leaning forward and nudging the DVD player. "It's time to introduce you all to Nanatsu no Taizai. You're gonna love it."

⁂

Again, huge thanks to @galahadwilder for letting me have a go at this. I really enjoyed it, and it was nice to get to share this side of Pride.

And thanks to all who have read and commented, helping me stay motivated to finish this despite my busy schedule. I'm glad you joined me for this journey.

[i-writeandread-blog]

A Portrait of a Tortured You and I - Chapter 2

Authors Note: I don’t edit or proofread usually when trying to get content out quickly, so I am aware there may be issues with my use of past and present tense. Please know I will fix any and all errors!

I was snapped back to reality, when I heard the horn blow on the ferry.  It was pulling up to the dock.  I was equal parts excited and nervous.  This wasn't my first rodeo, I had been to over 50 concerts, traveling all over the world to see Mars, I was also a Camp Mars alum... but this was the first time I had left the comfort of my home since I had been brutalized. 

Life has a funny way of surprising you though.  Since the attack, my sisters and I have made up.  I don't think we would have, had the unfortunate not happened.

Since I received the anonymous letter and check, I started working on getting better.  I still wasn't out of the woods.  The occasional panic attack and nightmare still happened.  I didn't know if they would ever go away, but they were becoming less and less.  I did have a few issues getting on the plane, but I used the breathing and grounding techniques that my therapist was teaching me.  And here I am, ready to finally enjoy life again.  I was so anxious to get to the island and get settled in. 

Some of the Echelon that I was still friends with were meeting up with me and it was all about strength in numbers.  That gave me comfort knowing that they had my back in the unlikely event I began to panic.

I looked around seeing many unfamiliar faces and was slightly confused.  Having traveled a lot to the European shows, I expected to recognize people I knew, but alas I didn't.  We began to load onto the ferry, everyone in a rush.  I felt a bump and a push and at first just chucked it off as everyone being so eager and not looking where they were going.  I felt an attack coming on and steadied myself against the railing.  "Okay, you've got this. Breathe in, now breathe out." I did my breathing exercises and didn't care if people thought I was crazy.  It subsided and I went to give myself a figurative pat on the back when I turned around and saw an unwanted familiar face.

"No one is buying it, freak!" She was laughing and acting so smug.

"What is your problem, Natalie?" I asked.  I honestly wanted to clear the air with her.  I knew I'd be seeing her at a ton of events going forward, as I had been for the last fifteen years.  I'd like to be able to enjoy our precious time with the band without having to constantly worry about problems with her.

"You honestly don't know, do you?"  She grinned, all the while looking at me very curiously.

"No. I've never had problems with you.  In fact, when you were writing that Jared smut, I was your biggest fan, always complimenting you on your writing.  Last years camp we even enjoyed some time together. So Nat, what's the deal?"

"You don't get to call me Nat anymore.  Just do me a favor and fuck off."  With that she stormed off into a group of girls all high five-ing her and congratulating her on a job well done being the biggest bully.  The saddest part of this was that Natalie is a 44 year old woman acting like a 20 year old.  It wasn't cute.  Not by a long shot.

I was on edge the whole ferry ride which lasted approximately an hour and twenty minutes, but felt much more like an eternity. My eyes were constantly darting around and anytime the boat rocked, I felt absolute dread. I was repeating a sort of mantra over and over in my head, “you’re gonna be in the presence of Mars soon. It’s going to be the best time!” I just knew once I was there and settled, that I would finally be able to let my guard down. I would be able to relax and have the best time.

We pulled up to the island and from the boat, I could see the beautiful art installations and hear the sounds of laughter mixed with music being played on loud speakers. I was home, in my element. Memories of previous camps creeping in my head and replacing all the negative ones from the past year. I watched as Natalie and her groupies got off the boat before me. I was wishing and trusting that she’d forget that I was here, now that she was also on the island.

Check in was literally right at the dock and there were many faces I recognized there, I sighed a great deal of relief. Walking up, I presented my ID, passport, and my booking number. A cheery girl many years my junior, took my items and said, “Hi, Catherine, how was your trip here?” I smiled, “it has been uneventful up to now.” I didn’t need to tell her all of the details, she was just making small talk. “Okay, you are in.... hmm. I don’t see your booking, that’s strange. Hold on a second.” She turned and walked off. I was growing more nervous by the second. Was my email from Shayla fake? But if so, how did I end up with $3,000 dollars? I started putting pieces together. Maybe the email was fake and my parents gave me the cashiers check. This would be so awful, if true.

I was told to step aside while someone else took over that computer and was checking more guests in. I couldn’t breathe and I started crying and shaking. The place I was supposed to feel most at home in was now not feeling so homey.

The girl came back and asked to see any printouts I had from AiW. I fumbled around looking for the email from Shayla and any correspondence directly from Adventures, I grabbed the first thing which happened to be the original confirmation when I bought the package in January.

She took it from me and cross referenced something on an iPad. “Hmmm, I see this booking existed and then it was canceled. But, I also see your name is on the list of attendees. We don’t finalize the list until all payments are made. This is odd. Do you have proof of payment?” I didn’t have that, but I was able to show her the email from Shayla after digging around once more in my bag. “Oh, well I guess this actually makes sense now! Okay, so you had the moonlight tent package. Let me find you one that’s available since we don’t know which one you’re supposed to be in, anyway.” She found one that had a bed free and loaded up my bags onto a golf cart. I told her I didn’t mind walking, and set out to find my tent.

I hadn’t seen any of my friends yet as many people were still being ferried over and we all had different boat times. It was peaceful. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, the music was a great selection of garden variety pop and rock. I was actually feeling great, now that it appeared the email wasn’t fake at all.

As I was walking, I caught a glimpse of Jared and Shannon talking over by some trees. They were wearing swimming trunks and smiling as they talked. I thought to myself that they looked extra adorable and almost tripped from not looking where I was going. I heard a voice that I would know anywhere shout, “watch your step, the ground isn’t even!” Shannon chuckled as he spoke to me from a distance. Jared looked in my direction and waved. I kept going and finally found my tent. Number 4, one of my lucky numbers. I was at peace.

My bags were sitting on the only available bed and I made my way over to it, to start making my little space my own. I heard someone walk in, but they must have walked back out because I never did see anyone. Once, I had made myself comfortable, I decided to lay down and allow myself time to soften up. I needed to unwind in the worst way and the quiet was really tranquil.

I rested for what was likely to be about an hour, but I have no actual idea as I hadn’t looked at the time. I was awoken from reverie to a commotion outside the tent. And I drew my legs up and started rocking back and forth.

The problem with being out in the real world was that everything was so unpredictable. Loud noises were everywhere, no matter the cause... they were most always innocent. People fighting... that was a hard one for me, but I saw my share of it in the airport between husband and wives, or parents and children. Now, here on the island there is it’s own set of issues. I needed to know the cause for the arguing. I needed to know I was safe. So I cranked my neck forward to get a really good listen.

“Ughh, I’ve looked all over for someone who can help me and I can’t seem to find anyone that cares or knows what to do! I’m going to just start screaming. Maybe that will get someone’s attention!”

I instantly knew it was Natalie.

“Don’t worry. This is a great opportunity. We can fuck with her as much as we want.”

“Hahahaha, no! I don’t want to be anywhere near her. She’ll play the victim no matter what and then I’ll get kicked off the island. Nooooo thanks!”

“No one has to know.”

“That’s true! Oh wait, there’s Shayla. Let’s get her attention.”

“Shayla, we desperately need your help!”

“Not now ladies. I’m looking for someone. Can it wait?”

“No, it can’t. We are stuck in a tent with someone we don’t like.”

“That’s hardly a reason to throw a fit. Can’t you just ignore each other?”

“Me? Of course! I can avoid her, but it’s not me to worry about. Catherine, will be the problem. She’s gonna hurt me in my sleep or something. She’s really unstable.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. She was actually trying to make me sound like I was a monster. What’s worse is we were to share a tent for three nights. I became violently ill and threw up right there in the bed.

“Did you say Catherine? Where is she?”

“Hell if I know.”

Shayla stepped inside and took notice of me.

“Oh my goodness, are you okay, Catherine?”

I nodded. “Let’s get you cleaned up and out of here. There was a mistake at check out. This isn’t your room. I’ll have someone clean up in here, don’t worry.” I went to protest, but she waved her hands at me. She picked up a towel and wiped my face. I was so humiliated. I had known Shayla for a few years and she was always so kind, we were nothing but acquaintances so to have her help me when I’m at my lowest was really humbling and extremely embarrassing. She handed me clothes from my suitcase and I quickly changed into them. “You ready?” I sighed, then nodded.

Shayla had her arms around me and walked me out of the tent. She gave Natalie a stern look and said nothing. We took a few steps and I overheard a scream followed by, “that nasty cunt threw up in here, how fucking gross!” Shayla reassured me and told me to just ignore it. I tried, but I still couldn’t get over how things were unfolding. I was still so confused as to how it ended up the way it did with Natalie.

We arrived at some bungalows and Shayla motioned for me to follow her. At first, I thought this was where she was staying or maybe it was first aid. I was really perplexed, but I followed her in. She turned around and said, “I’ll have your things sent here. Is this room okay? I wanted you to have something peaceful to wake up to, this was the only room with a direct view of the sea.”

“Shayla, I’m completely baffled. This isn’t my room. Why am I here?” I had to ask because I knew there had to be a mistake. “I must have forgotten to tell you, the donor upgraded you to the VIP experience and this was meant to be your room from that moment on. Unfortunately, when I went into the system to change everything, there was a glitch so it erased your booking entirely. You shouldn’t have been in that tent and it’s my fault you had to experience that unpleasantness.” She looked truly sorry.

“Shayla, you couldn’t have known. But is there anyway you can refund back some of the money to whomever paid for me? I’d like to just be where I was if I had paid my own way?”

“Catherine, I’m under strict orders to make sure you have a smooth vacation and that you have a wonderful time. I can ask, but I don’t think there’s a chance that they will allow that to happen.”

“Shay, who was it? I won’t say anything, I just am a little freaked out that someone did this for me.” I pleaded with her to tell me. Honestly, I was more scared now then I had been traveling here alone. What if this person meant me harm?

“I can’t say. But they’re not a threat to you. I can assure you of that.”

“Okay, whomever it was is trustworthy? I have your word?”

“Yes. Now, I suggest you do whatever it is you need to, because your itinerary is completely full starting in about an hour.” She handed me a paper filled with activities and times. She was right, completely full, starting with front row seating to the soundcheck.

[juistheseminarian]

Eccentric, part 1: (gasp) a child!

You can tell I take myself seriously as a writer since I was originally planning on making this a stand-up-sounding twitter thread, doing my usual best turning the topic into a trendy depression meme while telling anyone who’d listen that I’ve decided to write “real articles” since I “can’t find a job in my field” (I’ve totally looked). So this is me taking a step. I get the tingling feeling it might sound exactly as it would have anyway, except this time i’m gonna have to pry readers from one platform they spend their time on to another that’s about real reading, and somehow this distance is a real marathon to close. I know because I don’t read, and i do run. I expect little and I hope for even less. 

Writing “for real”, as opposed to waxing my usual poetics, has been a terror of mine, along with praying mantises, stick insects and john mulaney’s wife, in a good way. It’s been my plan A as well as my every other plan for as long as I can remember, which is an excellent reason to stay away from it since nothing else could possibly keep it from failing. It’s almost like I didn’t believe in hard work, which is ironic for a person who spent hours a day playing over two-measures loops of music so I’d learn guitar solos for a man. Where’s the reward here? Non-gendered consideration? Give me a break. 

I’ve been told in school that a writer’s first work is oftentimes autobiographical, in reaction to which I thought it would be a funny idea to even try to write about anything else (who could possibly?). That was before I tried viewing it through the lens of standpoint theory and claiming the relevance of my situated point of view as if we needed another white girl to cry about the upper middle class experience. Now don’t get your hopes up, I’m still gonna do it, but I’ll do my best to keep some perspective. There are more important pieces to be written and more important voices to be heard and I’ll never replace them or try to; what I want to do is use the language I’ve had the privilege to develop, and acknowledge my main skill as an opportunity to challenge what needs to be challenged at my own scale. 

Now that I’ve proceeded to justify myself because clearly you had asked, and have realized I’m going to have to find another way to introduce myself than to offer my guests a cup of insecuritea (get it?), let’s move on - I’ve been meaning to talk about, well, me, you got me there - no but really, about my journey trying to put words on my mental health. Tl;dr: I haven’t yet. I’m starting to think the final boss of this game is financial independence so I’ll probably shelf it and go back to super hexagon for a decade or two. What could go wrong. 

It all started when i was still going to school in rollerskates and wearing orange tights to show how I had just discovered the sex pistols - in fact, it started long before, as the nice ladies at daycare told my parents that maybe I was a little more than just shy. The year after that, I was pulled out of school for being unable to stay in class during storytime: I had taken to crying uncontrollably and panicking into a near catatonic state at the thought of the old crone in charge reading fairy tales. I got sick in the morning. I was taken home and it fortunately coincided with my family moving to another village, where I started class the next year and appeared normal, if a little keen on the self-pity. My teacher suspected I was bored, but shit happens, and it didn’t show. I didn’t show.

I never showed. Later on I tried to show and disappear all at once, which was, you’ll see, a little suboptimal, but you do what you can, right. I went from year to year in constant fear and numbness, threats surrounding me in the classrooms, hallways, home, people. I felt injustice and it made me puke, and all that mattered was not being seen, not being seen for this reason at least. To everyone’s surprise, including mine, I had numerous friends, which made the loneliness thing all the more age-typical. Girl-typical. Good grades for a good girl, we never hear her. Now she’s too confident, we hear too much of her. Oh I too was bad at maths! You’re good at languages, where did you learn this? Why do you know that? Why do you talk like this? Look at her, she was ready to cry! We got you! 

Most of what I remember from school is the shame and inadequateness of feeling. I had a few questions: why was I obsessed with sex, how would boys like me, why did it feel better talking to adults even though I was ashamed to do so. At home, I was shamed for masturbating and at school I was just ashamed without anyone needing to make me that way. I don’t know where the trauma was, so don’t ask, okay? I know it’s gotta be in there but how can I tell what’s real and what’s a memory this abusive therapist planted for the sake of being right? 

My body felt like a traitor, always horny and always heavy and always numb. The swimming pool was a nightmare. My femininity was nowhere to be found. The delicate, cheerful way the others sang and hopped around made me grow old, I found myself revoltingly fat, I found my hair too short, and why didn’t I know how to dance? Why were people telling me I was so honest when all I did was be ashamed? Something wasn’t working out for me, and I was crying often. As soon as I pictured myself skipping and singing i couldn’t hold back my tears. I invoked this image of me as what I figured would be a normal little girl, and I felt a thousand years old, an antediluvian tree, its movements blocked and its curves absent. 

The body did things and I hid them. Through puberty i felt like an impure, sexless organism, like secondary sex characteristics implanted on a shape, a bunch of pubes on a round mistake. I didn’t know what makeup was for and my friend group had common enemies: lingerie, sluts, girly girls, because they could not be smart, they wore thongs and smoked and thereby lost the war of clever versus hot. Somewhere along the line we admitted to masturbating and that was the breakthrough, that’s that on that, and one day a girl choked another during recess. Around this time fat became an issue and everyone knew before I did, because it was normal and I overplayed normal. The limits were, and are, invisible to me.

The old school ended without a diagnosis, and I feared for my life since some older kids made a hobby out of telling us we were gonna get beat up as soon as we’d have set foot in the new school. I was scared, normal scared at first, and I shared the scared, which was something I thought I could get used to (unfortunately I did, and then it went away). I moved on and at first it all seemed to have worked out, I had kept some old friends around and even made new ones, I had a boyfriend for one month and we held hands before I told him I was a vampire (I had read a book by Anne Rice) and he no longer wanted to speak to me. I didn’t particularly mind. I found another (I didn’t want him and we tried to fit him inside me; it didn’t even feel like it would ever be a physiological possibility, he was a gentle friend, I was not receptive). I found another (it worked out and we dated for five years. I did manage to fit him inside me, and to this day i’m not certain I should have). Fat had become an issue. 

For the first year it didn’t show - well, not alarmingly so. I studied how to girl and promptly found out that caring about the body seemed an effective shortcut, and I did, very much. I was nerves and erogenous shame, a piglet in human cast, and anything that touched me sent thunderbolts of frustration through my entire bedroom; anyone that talked to me was taking me by surprise and met with confused torrents of whatever had to come out that day. At this point we called the food thing “being careful”: you didn’t want to gain weight so you were “being careful”, salad instead of a main course, no ice cream, careful. Look in the mirror, have you been careful enough? I have a very clear image of walking in on my mother weighing herself and telling me “you see, the biggest worry for moms is to have a flat tummy”. She denied it ever happened. Truth is, the last time she said it was three days ago. 

Then came the warnings and I had already learned to take them as compliments. Everytime someone told me I was eating too little, I was gaining points. I was about to graduate. I was about to evolve like a training pokémon; warnings were congratulations and fear was validating me as a fragile young girl, finally, finally, no longer a slug. You could say it was progressive, and throughout the whole thing I was taken care of, yet I slipped through everyone’s fingers because I had lost twelve kilos and weighed a remaining 36 (that’s 79 pounds). 

My grandmother was afraid of my hands and my body was drying out, dehydrating, too weak to menstruate or feel. During this time I have never fainted, but have pretended to numerous times. I still wasn’t the center of the world, so I considered it a failure. My mother’s friends said I needed to gain weight for men to love me, my mother said I needed to eat or people would keep staring, and everytime I bought diet coke my boyfriend gave me the look you give to a relapsing junkie, because it was the case. All other possibilities had been eliminated, by me. 

The abusive therapist was there all along, but then she was okay still. I saw her all the time, did all sorts of talking and then I saw a doctor and she measured my heart and threatened me with a hospital stay so I cleaned up my act. I was admitted once, in a special unit for teenagers, and it was a nightmare. The others were real and a girl lived there long term because her mother threw chairs in her face (she was the first one to come and introduce herself to me, smiling, complimenting my clothes, kind). One had lost her father and one didn’t like spinach. Before I could spend the night I had caved in and my parents collected me, and I collected the phone they thought was the problem. ED treatments: isolation won’t do shit, trust us. We get better because everyone else is less cruel than you were, and don’t say that’s the point. You lasted one hour before telling me my skirt was too short. 

At one point I told the abusive therapist I was going to get better, and I did. It had lasted about a year and the doctor said it hadn’t been real anorexia or I would have had it worse, and I thought, the nerve on this person that jumped on the occasion to invalidate me as soon as I ate one bite. Don’t you dare take the words from my experience, don’t be ridiculous, I’ve already claimed the words - I do realize how lucky I was, others died, I didn’t, but I was very ill indeed, your ego be damned. I was very ill, I was offered fashion advice and condescension and suggestions that I should stop or men wouldn’t look at me, and I was not medicated and I had my asshole pumped full of water because it had dried shut. My heart sounded like a ruffled biscuit wrapper and my first year of high school was a made-up arrangement for me to not completely float away: I would come to some classes for the sole purpose of keeping myself afloat and would repeat the year no matter what. I think this kept me alive. 

My first days of high school i was a mummy. I had taken to rubbing the skin off of my arms with a pumice stone until they oozed with pus and burned constantly, I wore bandages from my wrists to under my t-shirt sleeves, I don’t know how my legs supported me, I don’t know how anyone did. I had picked a special high school where half my classes would be in english but I’d know nobody: I lasted two days and was transferred to my local school, and there I appeared sporadically in french class, bonding with the delightful old man who gave it and thought my writing was “images”. He said I should do contests but maybe I wouldn’t win because “the best ones often don’t”.

I repeated the class and fell in love with the next french teacher, a gentle woman who taught us about the middle ages. She was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, mysterious, a woman but not just a mother, she didn’t know what to do with my writing and I’m ever so sorry she had to fence off the embarrassment and try to be a good role model. Lucky for me, she really wasn’t. 

Ultimately I got better. But I gotta say: my style during this era was off the charts. I looked amazing, I copied Amanda Palmer and my boyfriend and the mad hatter and David Bowie, I once went to high school with a suit and converse because of David Tennant, and I cut my own hair with kitchen scissors. My then-boyfriend painted my t-shirts with foetuses and whatever else we found extremely shocking. We said we’d lose our virginity to raw power by Iggy Pop (did we?) and his mother said she was afraid I would mentally screw her stable, balanced son whose anger issues had him slap me a bunch of times - I would have slapped me too, I said then, and almost stand by it. Years later he phoned me saying he was in therapy and he was sorry and it wasn’t my only fault; I don’t think i hold grudges and I’m glad others don’t either. My mother, however, does. Beyond unrealistic. Must be exhausting. 

If I had to describe what anorexia felt like, i’d say it felt like depression but floating, like compulsive obsessing over fashion because I felt I was allowed to now that I was thin; like the most hopeless cul-de-sac with no way out except the one you came from, a well full of serpents like you’re Ragnar Lothbrok and the british are laughing at you from the surface. You float yet sink and you have to claw your way up but your nails are like chalk, you know, from the not eating bit. The anxiety makes every day feel like a year of waiting in terror, and you don’t know why it came and you don’t know why it ends, and sometimes it doesn’t. 

...

I’ll have to return to the abusive therapist topic, which is why this is part one of a series on my experience of mental health issues. This isn’t meant as a self indulgent victimization (although it is self indulgent, I mean what the hell, i’m not catholic) though I don’t think it requires further justification, either. I don’t know what will come out of this once I said everything I had to say on the matter, but for now i’m angry about things, and I feel we need to do better. 

I was in the best possible conditions and my treatment still sucked, and I still spent the last fifteen years of my life in pain because health professionals can’t have an empirical, science-based approach for shit. I’m not exaggerating when I say I was a ping pong ball in a match doctors played with their dicks. Gender informed how easily my anorexia was diagnosed whereas countless young men still suffer in silence; it also informed how patronizing people would sound and how “efforts” were suggested as medication for my disorders. How pleasing men was supposed to be reason enough for me to eat my own illness. How my ‘’giftedness’’ was not investigated and neither was my ADHD because female-coded symptoms are overlooked. I’m pissed off, I’m qualified to be, and you’ll hear more of me. 

-Ju 

[nate-walsh]

unwedded

Sooooo, it’s good to periodically take your life and just spike it into the fucking ground, right? That’s a good healthy smart good thing, right? Blow it up and start fresh? “When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire?”

Well. Either way, here we are. 

Let me catch you up.

I was going to be married. Had a big old party planned (and trust me, it was gonna be a good one) and a big old life planned (presumably also a good one). We were going to say, “fuck kids,” and keep on keeping on with all of our various little unreasonable adventures, basically indefinitely. We were going to move around a lot, see all the places we wanted to see – NOLA, LA, Amsterdam. (We were semi-seriously talking about heading to Buenos Aires after the wedding.) Elli was going to maybe work her way up to a place where I maybe didn’t have to work, and I could go back to school or write a book and get my spirit back. I was going to have siblings, I was going to be an uncle. I was going to have a person, a partner, someone to grow old with. We were going to totter around as cute little seniors. We were going to take care of each other. It was going to be a whole thing.

And then, in the space of 6 days, it suddenly wasn’t. Elli is gone, and we’re done, and here I am alone. It’s pretty wild, honestly. 

I’m not really going to get into the why. We talked it over with our therapist – shout out to Dr. Jessica; you’re incredible! – and we established the official party line: Things happened that made us realize that, while we could be lifelong friends, we couldn’t be lifelong partners. That’s all true, but it’s obviously not everything – in fact, it’s pretty damn vague. You know me, left to my own devices, I’d spill my guts all over the place. But it’s not just my story, so sorry, nosy Nellies, I’m going to have to keep this one under my hat.

It was a strange few final days, which I am sure will come as no surprise. We bought all of these fireworks on our drive out to Austin, and finally, our last night together, we finally set them off, in the middle of a field in Garfield, TX – throwing back Hello Kitty cups of prosecco. It was sad and lovely. We got matching heart tattoos – also sad and lovely – hopefully because we’re not done with each other, in some form or other. But, at the very least, because we wanted to mark this not-so-little mile marker in our lives.

I’m always going to love Elli. She is wonderful and honestly the kindest, best person I know. She actively made me better, more thoughtful, more forgiving, more empathetic. She basically killed the fundamental attribution error in me, which is pretty wacky. She was a great partner – funny, goofy, adventurous and cheerfully nihilistic in the same way I am: “Money’s fake, and we’re all going to die, so let’s have fun.” She’s always going to be family and one of my best friends, even if we never talk again. I hope we do, though. I think we will. Neither of us is the sort to be angry or mean or bitter. We’re de-escalators. That’s one of the things I liked about us.

I keep waiting for the big sad to hit, the devastation, but maybe I got it out in the week things ended. Maybe it’s the pills that are keeping me from wiping out. Mostly I feel a little lonely, a little worried about what’s next, and not really ready for any of it. I feel like a little kid, unequipped for being a mature adult in the real world. It’s suddenly much much clearer all the things Elli did to keep us afloat. And now I am my own little life preserver. And I feel like I’ve got a few leaks.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do next. I’m 35 and starting over. Basically everyone I know my age is settled in a marriage, saddled up with a kid. I’ve always deviated from the path a bit, sure, but now I’m starting to feel like a fuck-up instead of a nonconformist.

I’ve got a little less than 2 months to figure out my next move. Stay in Austin? Head back to the Bay Area? Try somewhere new? (“I’ve never lived in LA, but I always wanted to.”) I’ll probably get into this some more in a bit, but it’s definitely hanging over me. The world is my oyster, but I don’t really feel like shucking the fucker yet.

It’s weird doing things as a 1 when you’re used to being a 2. The little routines now seem bizarre and strange. Elli decided we should take some time off from talking, which I think is healthy and smart. But it’s weird suddenly going from having one person who is kind of your whole life and who’s always there and who you know all the things about, and then suddenly, NOPE. And not only that – you don’t just lose the person, you lose the whole life you’d planned together in your mind. None of this is news, I suppose. (This is why I don’t write much these days. I’m not sure I have anything new to say that hasn’t been said by someone better than me. Also because advertising is crushing my soul, haha.)

People have been reaching out, which is nice. But I'm having a hard time. Turns out I don't talk to people very much. Which isn't as big of a deal when you've got one person as a permanent lifeline. Now, though, I realize the distance I've created is a pretty dumb mistake on my part. I have people I love, who love me, and we could talk, and I could form better relationships, but I keep to myself mostly. The crazy, I guess. Don’t want to risk inflicting myself on people. 

I actually don’t mind the loneliness a lot of the time. It’s harder out in the world – weird sad dinners, no one to talk to at concerts – but at home, just me and Cat, it hardly feels like I need anyone. That’s not true, though, and not healthy. I worry I’m going to lose my ability to talk to people; it’s already atrophied since we moved here. I worry I’m going to forget how to do jokes. I worry about becoming a total hermit, dying alone and weird.

ALL THIS SAID, though, I don’t think it was a mistake, us ending things. It’s going to be hard, probably for a good long while, but I think it’s right that it happened. There’s this line from Dwight on The Office – “I think they both can do better.” That’s about right, I think – we both deserve a little more than we were getting, and I’m hopeful that we’re both going to get it. Because I’m nothing if not an idiot optimist. 

(And, at least it happened before we married – and before we spent too too much on flowers and canapés and shit.)

I’m most inclined to write when I’m down or fraught, you’ve maybe noticed. So, for all of you folks hungering for Nate Walsh content the past 5 years, we’re back in the game, baby! I just have to remember how to do this whole thing.

[stubbornattempt]

I hope this is ok to try to get a message to you again. If you'd prefer that I didn't I'll certainly stop. There are just so many things I don't know or understand. The past couple of years I've come to believe that for whatever reasons you and I can never be together. And while this is my best guess, I realized I would like to know that for a fact. You see, I'm still in love with you and I always will be in love with you and I would wait as many years as it takes until its safe to be together, if there ever would come such a time. It's a long shot, but I'd like to know if there is a chance. That would change every aspect of my life. It seems to me that you and I can't be together because of the danger of being arrested, and if that is the case I would never want you to risk yourself trying to be with me. I would rather never see you again and let you have a good life. But maybe is there some sort of statute of limitations on the thing? If enough time goes by would everything be ok? I think about you every day and it hurts a lot. I can't put it into words but I ache like I've lost the thing in the world most precious to me. Sometimes I just whisper your name. I don't know how you feel. Maybe you don't still have strong feelings for me or even want to be together. If that's the case I'd rather not know that! You said you would always love me and I believe you. I remember every single thing you've ever said to me. You're in the deepest and most permanent part of me. You're my home and as long as we're apart I'll never be home. It's ok if that's what it boils down to. It's been a long time now and I've accepted the idea of never being together. I told you I'm dating this guy Steve and I like him well enough. It's slightly nicer to have someone than to be alone. But I don't think I could ever be in love with him, or anybody else really. I can love someone as a person and be fond of them but that's not the same as being in love. I've just accepted that any other relationship I have I will be settling for less. Over the past year I've started becoming what I think might be a bad person. I'm just selfish and sometimes I feel absolutely nothing. I don't care that the planet is dying. I don't really want to expend energy to help anybody else and I do the bare minimum to help myself. I have more callous and angry thoughts than I used to, and until recently I've been aware of becoming a worse human being but I haven't cared. I'm also becoming increasingly perverted, and while I don't think there's anything wrong with a fantasy that you would never act on, I wonder what it says about me that I'm getting off on things that would disturb most people. I've always had a twisted sort of libido I guess, but its just firing on all cylinders now and I wonder if I'm so different from regular people that I'll always be on the outside pretending to fit in and hiding my true self. I did about 4 weeks of school and withdrew from my classes. I didn't want to do the work and I didn't like the subject material very much. It was Statistics and Chemistry and I realized I was gonna have to work hard to get A's. I didn't really want to be in school anyway. After visiting Steve in Cleveland for 5 weeks I realized that I could live a decent life on a tight budget. I'll get disability checks forever until I die, so if I don't want to I really don't have to work. And the truth is that I definitely don't want to work. Even if I wanted to I don't know if I could. I've always had trouble having to be places. Sometimes, quite frequently in fact, I break down and quit. I can't be somewhere all the time and also be forced to be around people. These days I find I'm happiest when I'm watching TV. There are enough shows out there that I could watch TV for the rest of my life. And when I get bored of that I could read books and do a little exercising. I have the opportunity to just have all my time to myself and I'd rather be poor and have that than go back to school, pay a shit ton of money, and then have to fucking work some job I'll probably hate. In any event, I don't think Biotechnology is the degree for me. The only potential job I would actually enjoy is being a therapist or counselor of some sort, and that would take a lot of schooling to get to a point where I could have a career. I'm a little too old now to look down that road. Maybe not. I just don't feel like being back in school just yet. I still have too many emotional and psychological issues that I'm dealing with. I've decided to get some therapy myself. I think I'll go next week. Try to talk about some of this stuff. Eventually I told a few people about what I went through. I told Steve, another online friend, and then today I told Michelle some of it. Maybe talking about it will somehow help? If I thought there was a possibility of being able to be with you in the future it would infuse every aspect of my life with such profound happiness. I'm not holding out much hope for it, but I think you should give me an answer if you can safely get one to me. If there is no chance I think I'll move to Cleveland. Not because I'm so crazy about Steve, but I like him well enough and its an opportunity to start over. I love where I live but there are memories everywhere I go. I can't be the way I was again, and being reminded of everything I used to have can be painful. Cleveland is very cheap and poor and I could fit right in. My mother will be supremely disappointed upon finding that I don't intend to go to school and then get a job and I can't really explain myself to her. Telling my family about my life is out of the question. So in Cleveland I could at least be in a new setting where I'm not bombarded with memories around every corner, with a guy who I enjoy spending time with, and I could live cheaply. As you get older your options narrow all the time. I'm looking at my options and it seems like the best one. Today I miss you so much I want to cry. I don't cry that much these days. After I figured out you weren't coming for me again I didn't cry for a year or something. I did some art therapy on Tumblr and listened to a lot of screamo. Last winter I made that playlist I sent to you, and I would listen to it all day every day for like a month or two and cry to it. I haven't cried since then I don't think. Crying doesn't do anything anymore. My emotions are resoundingly futile. I'm so scared of forgetting a detail or a feeling. I'm scared of the time and distance that separates me from when I last saw you and I'm scared that it's only ever going to grow. I'm scared of getting older and inevitably not being the same person I used to be and I'm realizing the thing that might save me is that I don't want to become someone you would no longer love, even if we never see each other again. I want to be the person that you love and I don't know how to do that going into the future without you. As I slowly turn into somebody else that's putting even more distance between us. It hurts so much its the dullest ache. No one will ever know what we shared and that's ok as long as I can keep it alive in my heart and my mind, but life is long I guess. Even though we're not together somehow I'm scared of losing you. Loving you is the most profound experience of my life. A future without you is static, muted, black and white. I feel like I lived more than most people in life ever have. I've had more mystery and adventure, trauma and pain, and depth of love. Sometimes I actually feel lucky, even though it devastated my life for good. At least I was special for a time, and experienced something unique in all the world. And I experienced your love, which is my top rated experience of all time. Sometimes I beg your memory not to leave me. So far it hasn't, but I'm afraid of Time. I'll wrap this rant up here. I just wanted to say that I'll no longer send you messages on Facebook. I guess that might be dangerous somehow? I also want you to know that I will never come looking for you. If you want to be with me and its safe, the ball is totally in your court. I don't want you to feel haunted by me and if you don't want to hear from me I won't message you. Even if we can't be together IRL maybe we could keep in touch through secret messages over the years? Maybe just an update every couple of years? I want you to have a life and be happy and I don't want to interfere with that. So maybe you'd prefer a clean break and just to let me go? Fuck, I love you so much. Whatever you want is fine with me. I only ask that you give me a sign so I can know for a fact that it's over forever. You don't even need to tell me why. All I really want to do in this life is tell you how much I love you. I'm trying to live my life and I am. Some days are easier than others. I'm alone in my headspace most of the time. I don't know if it helps or does harm to think about everything so much. I'm realizing a lot about my limitations and coming to terms with what the rest of my life is going to look like. I think I could find reasonable happiness if I moved away and started new. As long as I stay in this city my family will make me feel bad for not accomplishing anything professionally. And I just don't have it in me to be what they want me to be. Everything I went through from like 2011-2017 or whatever it was, that is and has to be my "contribution" to the world because I truly don't have anything left to give. I'll never feel like everybody else and no matter what happiness and stability I'm able to attain, there will forever be this deep current of sadness for everything lost. I find myself feeling alienated from other people and not totally respecting their emotions and experiences because of what I've been through. Things I went through were so extreme it makes it hard for me to take the plights of others so seriously. I'm on the outside forever and I am alone forever. I feel happier with Steve but he doesn't have much emotional depth and even though I told him about you/everything I don't think he begins to understand. So I'm alienated forever from everyone IRL and nobody who knows what happened to me is willing to talk to me. What exactly happened anyway? When did John first start filming me? When did others start watching? What's the ballpark number of people who were watching me? Were there cameras in the bathrooms? In the Tea House? Basic fucking things I'll never know. No one affiliated with the theater is ever going to tell me and there's no way to find the answers to my questions. It used to be very troubling to not know, but I've come to terms with not knowing. It's not that high on my list of concerns anymore. The PTSD from believing that John was going to kill me has probably subsided as well. I don't think I really have schizophrenia, but I think you guys gave me schizophrenia for a time. I was out there seeing clues and receiving messages left and right and that shit did get pretty scary. But I don't see clues and messages anymore, so I doubt I'm schizo. Maybe I have like schizo-affective disorder or something, but I don't think I'm schizo. I even stopped taking my meds months ago and I'm fine. I'll pretend to the docs like I'm taking my meds and I'm fine with the diagnosis as it has allowed me to be given disability. I feel like I deserve disability and I honestly feel like after what I lived through that I shouldn't have to work. I know I said earlier that I was wrapping this up, but I do not want to stop talking to you ever. My love. I also want you to know that there is no future where I blame you for what I went through or am angry with you. Looking back over our communication I see perfectly clearly that you didn't lie to me or deceive me. I think you made some poor decisions because I would have liked to marry you straight away and skip the internet games. I know you feel badly about the way things happened. I don't want you to though. It's bad enough that I'm not happy, if you can be happy you really should be. I'm so glad that you have your kids in your life. It makes me very happy to know that you have those meaningful relationships. That night in the truck when it seemed like we were running away, if that's what was really happening I want you to know how much it meant to me that you were willing to leave everyone in your life to be with me. It was powerful. Obviously I'd do the same for you anytime at all, but I don't have kids. So your devotion to me was the most impressive gesture anyone has ever made for me. I don't think anyone has ever really seen me the way you did. I want to always be that person you fell in love with but that can't be. I'm growing older and changing and the changes probably aren't all good. Thank you for being there at my most vulnerable and for intoxicating me with your love. I know I was probably draining and maybe demanded more from you than you had signed up for. I hope I didn't mess things up for you too much. I know your wife left you and it seemed like my going to where you used to work may have influenced her decision? Anyway, I hope you don't look back and think of me as a mistake that made you lose your wife. Even if its not me I hope you find someone who loves you. I would just hope that you never stop loving me. I don't know how I'm gonna carry myself through the rest of my life. Maybe things can be better than I'm imagining. Maybe I'll be more of a good person than a creep. I have to try a little bit harder though. I'm so disaffected. I don't like being around people or going out and doing things. If I move to Cleveland Steve will make sure I get out and do things. He has crazy levels of energy and fills every second of the day with an activity. After 5 weeks I was thoroughly exhausted, but perhaps that's a good type of personality for me to be around. It's hard for me to stop writing to you because it kind of feels like spending time with you when I talk to you. I would love to hear from you. Anything from you I cherish. I'm afraid to look at your blogs or your online accounts though. I don't want to see things that aren't meant for me. It also hurts. I only want to see things from you that are meant for me. Anything you could tell me about how you're feeling or what actually happened I would be grateful to hear. You could be creative. I'll know if its you. One last thing I forgot to mention is that I'm having transgender problems again. I've decided not to pursue transitioning. It's a little late in the game for me. The results wouldn't be as good. It's a lot of fucking work to transition. Most people are wildly transphobic. I don't want to have to explain and justify my existence to everybody. I don't want to be discriminated against. My mom might disinherit me. It would be harder to date. I'd be a dude with a vagina which is awkward. Top surgery is a lot of money. I don't think I want to shave my face every day. A lot of trans people say that if you can live as a cis person that you definitely should because being a transsexual is very hard. The part of my life were it would have mattered being correctly gendered the most is behind me. I'm just saying fuck it. It's just one more way that my life fails to be perfect. If I did transition probably I would be happier and more comfortable in social situations and more likely to socialize but the cost is very high. Maybe I'm being cowardly or lazy about it, but I'm trying to be pragmatic. Anyway, I'll love you no matter what even when you're 70 and bald and your teeth are falling out, so if at any point in your life you want to be with me and its possible, reach out. I'm yours and its not possible to make it otherwise. If you don't respond to this I guess I'll take that as a sign and try not to contact you again. If that happens I want you to know that I will think of you always. As the years roll on I will imagine you raising your kids, going to their graduations and weddings, having grand kids, growing old. I'll think about you in your dorky baseball caps and playing the guitar, enjoying your success and continuing to crusade against the insanity in the world. Your obsessiveness, your industriousness, your raw intelligence and creativity. I think you're golden. That night in the motel room when I refused to leave you and because of that you ended up getting away, that was the thing in my life that I'm most proud of and I would do it over and over again. At least I was given the opportunity to demonstrate how much I care for you. Not everybody gets to make such a dramatic gesture. I hope you feel it in your bones how much you are loved. I hope I'm inside of you the way you are in me. If you still feel the same for me, please consider the possibility of trying again if there is any possible way. I would try to be the best version of myself for you. I've decided to try that anyway, but it would be easier with you. Can I tell you just one more time? I love you. I was a kid for a long time, longer than usual, but I'm less so every day. And although I'm a terribly inadequate adult I don't think I would be a burden on you. I'm financially independent now, I have a car and a license and I've dealt with a lot of my problems on my own. I still have many lingering problems but I don't think you'd have to repair me as much. We could have a relationship based on mutual love more than need. After everything, wouldn't it feel like the world’s greatest victory? It would to me anyway. I'm just appealing to you on the chance that we could try to make it work. If it was my choice we'd never stop trying. Ok, I've been long-winded. It feels super good to talk to you. I hope against hope that this isn't the last time.